


What now.

by Friggy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (but maybe a lil less davey-fied), Blue haired tracy is Amy and her girlfriend is Rose, Eventual Romance, Everyone is a moron but cute as well, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), How many tags do i even have, How original hahah, I got a lot of love for everyone in this game, I have stolen cavey's characters and ran away with them he can't have them back, Like really fukin slow, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, No beta we die like nem, Other, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, The POV shifts a lot, there's some swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 59
Words: 78,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friggy/pseuds/Friggy
Summary: Post Good endingBasically exploring what might happen RIGHT after the best option.Edit whatever: get ready for some action!Edit whatever 2: the fluff is advancing at a steady pace (along with plot)Also, don't be scared because of the number of chapters. They're fairly short.Edit oops: I got busy with work and lost a bunch of chapters. Too annoyed to rewrite them and kinda lost my steam a while ago.





	1. Stayin' Alive

    To say that the aftermath of the Android Revolution had been messy would be a massive understatement. Probably the understatement of the century, but there were still over 60 years left of it and Hank didn't wanna jinx it. True, it could have gone phenomenally wrong. All in all too much destruction had been avoided; but the fact that the following days had been a massive clusterfuck of confusion and fear and a giant raging headache for the Lieutenant - which made him feel exponentially less inclined to seeing the “bright side” as the kid had tried (and failed) to reassure – made him want to bury his head under the nearest rock and pretend he didn't have any responsibility or authority in this godforsaken city whatsoever.

    Whoever thought putting him in charge of corralling lost androids back to the new Jericho (and indirectly making sure humans kept their destructive tendencies in check) while the evacuation was underway was a dumbass. He was no diplomat, he wasn’t SWAT, hell, he’d barely been 5 days sober when he got the assignment. Oh, wait, that had been Connor's suggestion, and Fowler (damn his shiny bald head), for lack of any other volunteers, senior officers or any concrete aid on this particularly delicate matter from the City Council, the FBI, Homeland Security and whoever the fuck else in a position of power had gotten involved in this shitfest, had elected to (surprisingly) listen to the android and saddled Hank with it. The fact that he no longer absolutely hated all androids (he tolerated them a little better than he tolerated most humans anyway) and wanted to help Connor and his people was beside the point.

    This was a pain in the neck. Jeffrey probably used this to get back at him for all the bullshit he'd pulled with Perkins too.

    He appreciated Connor's trust in him, really, even felt a little overwhelmed (though he’d be damned if he'd ever show it) when Robo-Jesus himself gave him a call to personally thank him and brief him on what he was supposed to do (it seems Connor had been planning this migraine for him for some time). Apparently an organized group of androids sent out to search for their brethren would not be tolerated and would be seen as an act of war by the American Government (ha!) and sending undercover agents alone was risky (though Hank was certain they'd done that too, no way they'd put all their eggs in one basket. He wondered if Connor himself was parkouring around town, looking for strays). So the bastards had gotten creative and maneuvered the acceptance of an 'Android rescue task force' made up of humans (fancy and a little stupid considering it was him and five other schmucks who were being little more than glorified and outdated taxi drivers).

    He’d been busting his ass, organizing meeting spots where he and a couple of trusted human aides would pick up androids who apparently hadn't gotten the memo that a damn war had almost been avoided and city's human population was slowly (agonizingly slowly) being moved out under armed supervision. Then driving the clueless/hurt/scared/generally lost fucks back to safe ground before someone got vengeful and uppity and sneaked out of the steadily trickling river of humanity to bash their faces in. Or burn them. Or dismember them. Or shoot them. Or string them up like cattle – those had been the worst along with the dismembered AND burned ones. There were even some who hadn't broken free of their programming yet (he hated the word 'deviate' now, like free will was some disease).

    Hank had a feeling the “supervisors” weren't doing their jobs too well. The first few days after the order to evacuate had been the worst, when they found more dead than alive in the city suburbs and outskirts. Soon enough, word got around and Hank managed to block out the horrible first finds and focus on saving the stragglers.

    Two weeks into the evacuation, most of the human citizens had fled, the couple of stubborn individuals who remained would have to be coerced but SWAT and the rest of the Police force would eventually track them down, the homeless would be a different challenge, and the people with critical medical conditions who couldn't move as fast or couldn't be safely moved from the hospitals yet would be dealt with later along with the emergency responders, the doctors and others like them. He didn't know what would happen to the people with nowhere to go and likely minimal help from the powers-that-be. He didn't want to think about it too much since it was way above his pay-grade and he also really didn't need the added depression.

    The last to leave would be the evacuation organizers and enforcers (aka, the fucks from City Hall and the Police) which suited Hank fine since he could check up on his dumbass plastic friend for a while yet.

    Said dumbass was currently caught up in whatever fuckery the androids had going on to organize and shelter themselves (it was all very hush-hush, Connor had excused himself for not being able to explain to which Hank had in turn replied he had no desire to 'get caught up in android bureaucratic red-tape and other such bullshit'). Over the last few days more and more fortifications had sprung up overnight around the newly relocated Jericho.

    The Cyberlife Tower had also been evacuated, swiftly and efficiently (by the big cahoonas in charge, no doubt) he'd heard from Connor that by the time Markus and his cronies regrouped and headed back towards the tower, most of the remaining important goods, research and employees had been whisked away in armored trucks, big busses, even construction vehicles, all under armed escort. At least, that's what they gathered from the scant drone recordings and eye-witnesses they could find.

    When Connor had walked out of that hellhole with his army most of the humans had already scattered or likely hid until the droids left. Hank had managed to snag an automated taxi and (reluctantly) head home at the kid's insistence. Water under the bridge now.

    So, Markus decided to appropriate the tower and the surrounding buildings, there were still plenty of resources that would benefit them left behind and they didn't have the time or means to cart all the stuff halfway across town.

   The Cyberlife Tower became the new android central hub (although Hank had his suspicions about hidden caches and backup shelters littered all over town - he'd delivered too many of the stragglers in certain places for them not to be important somehow).

    If Hank were the admitting kind, he’d say it was a little impressive how fast and subtle the androids had been about taking over the town. As soon as a grid sector was cleared, droid surveillance would pop up and later once a big enough space was cleared, they'd move bodies to keep it under control, expanding their influence by increments.

    This time, they were armed too.

    Nobody human was reclaiming that bit of town any time soon.

 

    Time flies when you've got work coming outta yer ass, and soon enough it was Hank's turn to vacate his home. He felt a little miffed at this. You'd think being partners with Jericho's head of security and personally responsible for rescuing 78 androids (and overseeing the operation that saved another 237 and returned 21 bodies) would buy him some extra time at least.

    What he got instead was a visit from Connor one afternoon, after Hank had headed home early since there wasn't much else for him to do, who informed him in that formal tone he had when he was feelin’ particularly awkward that he should pack his shit up soon because the Police force and everyone else left over was supposed to fuck off by the day after tomorrow at the latest (those weren't his exact words but that's how they felt).

    How the idiot managed to look endearing while petting a very clingy Sumo and sound so infuriatingly mechanical at the same time was beyond him.

    Hank had been a little stunned at first, only to immediately get spooked by his phone's emergency message hellishly loud peeping sound (he really needed to change that before it gave him a heart attack). The message had been the official order to leave.

     He sighed and planted his hands on his hips. Sumo whined at him and looked between them with pleading eyes.

    “So… this is it.” Connor was looking just about everywhere but at him.

     Eventually he stopped avoiding his glare and met his eyes.

    “I’m sorry. There's not much I can do. There's nothing for you if you stay and it would be beneficial for you to keep in-“

    “I get it, I get it.” Hank interrupted before the plastic dumbass busted a circuit trying to explain whatever convincing bullshit he'd prepared.

    “Can't have the old man cramping your style now that you're big in Jericho.” He added with a sly grin.

    “You know that's not –“ he pauses with a squint once he sees Hank's hand reach up to cover his mouth.

     “- oh... you were… joking.”

     It's hard to stay mad at the kid when he's got that sheepish dorky half-smile on.

    “C’mon, might as well make yerself useful and help me pack.”

    The kid's smile seems to stretch (a bit wonky, but he'll take it) and they both headed towards the bedroom to start gathering his junk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank is best dad and he already misses his android dope of a son :`(  
> Sumo is a good boy.


	2. Should I stay or should I go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue with Hank and Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think the chapter titles aren't song references, you're wrong.

    It's almost midnight by the time the last box is stuffed in the car (they didn't pack _everything_ , just a bunch of the things he'd need for where he was being relocated) Hank was exhausted.

    All he wants now is a hot shower and sleep, he's not even hungry anymore, but Connor insists on a sandwich made with the leftovers from last night, so Hank only grumbles a little before grabbing it and a juice from the fridge, then plopping on the couch with a bone-weary groan and digging in. Connor eyes his choice in beverage suspiciously, he looks like he wants to ask something as Hank takes off the plastic-wrapped tiny straw and stabs it in the aluminum dot on the top with a little too much aggression.

    “What.” Hank side-eyes the android as he surfs the channels on TV in search for something to watch.

    He hesitates before answering, Hank wonders if he's going through multiple choices and their possible fallouts. He's sure something dumb's gonna come outta his mouth anyway. Those deceptively innocent eyes focus on his drink again as he takes a sip and squeezes the little bag to half-squirt it's contents into his mouth.

    “Is that spiked?” Hank chokes at the unexpected question, some sticky sweet juice gets in his beard. He coughs a laugh and wipes at his mouth.

    “Can't a man enjoy his Capri Sun in peace?!!?” the shit-earing grin he earns at that is almost worth the trouble of having to shampoo his beard tonight.

    “I never realized you had a preference for –“ he looks at the label again “- Mystic Dragon flavor…” he finishes with a dry look back at Hank. 

    "While I _am_ glad you've reduced your alcohol intake, I'm not sure replacing it with so much sugar is recommended considering the state you liver is probably alr-“

    “Augh, get off my damn back, son.” he grumbles with a muttered curse.

    “I don't even drink this shit every day… it used to be Cole's favorite and I wanted to…” the admission slips before he even realizes it and he winces at how quickly Connor's smile seems to freeze and drop slightly. 

    At the sudden excitement, Sumo boofs at them from his doggy-bed and pads over to plant his considerable mass on Connor's feet, then crawl up into his lap as if he were a cat. The android only scoots further back into the couch, ever patient.

    He looks a little silly, buried under the giant dog. He'll be covered in hair after this, but he doesn't seem to mind. Sumo just looks like he grew a new pair of skinny legs. At least he's smiling again.

    “You spoil him _way_ too much, he'll be even more clingy once we…” the sudden reminder that he needs to leave soon settles back over Hank, he'd been enjoying this too much, forgotten the point of the visit.

    “Hank…” it almost sounds like he's being scolded. Imagine that. _Scolded_ by this twiggy-ass android. he remembered to call him by his name though. Hugging it out in the snow seemed to have cured some of that stick up his ass.

    “Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm fine.”

    Connor huffs at him. Huffs!! Like a tired old woman with a bad hip, huffing at her rowdy grandchildren! Who taught him that.

    “You should get some rest, it's late.” he finishes rather lamely.

    Hank just waves him away, puts his plate down with the now empty juice baggy on top and heads for the shower.   

    When he comes out, the kid's still buried under Sumo (who is now fast asleep and snoring – Ha! Joke’s on him, that old dog farts in his sleep.) He fully expects Connor to batman it outta here by morning but doesn't add more than a rough “G’nite.” and shuts the door to his bedroom (he’d never been good with goodbyes anyway), flops on his bed and promptly starts snoring not 5 minutes after.

 

    The next morning comes with annoying cheerful chirps from outside.

    Damn. He'd forgotten to set an alarm.

    He hadn't woken up at noon in weeks.

    Not wanting to drag this out any longer, Hank moves his tired carcass out of bed, fumbling for his slippers (stupid winter and stupid cold floor). Once he reaches the hallway he can't help but glance at the living room.

    He has to stifle a surprised bark of laughter. Connor is still seated on the couch in roughly the same position as last night with Sumo loosely draped over him. His eyes are closed and the light at his temple pulses a steady and faint blue. Hank decides to let them rest while he takes care of his morning routine.

    When he comes out of the bathroom he sees Connor standing and pathetically trying to brush the fur off his clothes.

    Sumo is busy munching on fresh kibble. The plate and trash from last night have been tidied away.

    A mug of hot tea was waiting for him on the counter. Nice.

    Wordlessly, he reaches into a drawer by the TV and hands Connor the lint roller. He quickly uses 4 strips of it then gives up, frowning, when he can see he still looks a little fuzzy. Hank kind of misses that suit of his, it would have looked funnier than the casual clothes he had on now (the same ones from when he infiltrated the old Jericho ship. Hank didn't ask about the hole in the shoulder).

    “Sleep well?” he asks from under his mug. Connor looks at him like he knows he's being laughed at, but isn't entirely sure.

    “Androids don't 'sleep', Lieutenant. We go into stasis for a few hours, but the experience isn't comparable to the human sleep cycle.” he's back to reciting the android manual at him. It's too early for this shit.

    “Sure looked like sleep to me…” before Connor has a chance to reply Hank ducks back into his room with a quick “Oh shit, I forgot.”

    He comes back out with a small white square-shaped thing.

    “Are you guys still cut off from using the cell services?”

    “Yes, Josh is still working on arranging a cell plan for all androids but since we aren't considered people yet…” he shrugs and leaves the sentence unfinished, looking dubiously at the box.

    “You guys'll get to it soon enough. Anyway. Here.”

    The kid only fumbles a little at being handed something unexpectedly.

    “Thanks, Hank. I've always wanted a white box.”

    “Oh, har-har. Look at who learned to make a joke. Just open the damn thing.”

    Connor slides the lid off and stops, looking at the contents as if it had insulted his mother(board – whatever).

    “A… phone…”

    “Yah.”

    “Do you need help setting it up?” he looks up with fake innocence.

    “No, you cheeky lil' shit. It's for you.” Hank slurps at his tea a little loudly and turns away to rummage for some bagels. He knew he had them in here somewhere.

    “Thanks?”

    “Yer welcome. A-Ha, there you are!” he triumphantly pulls the half-empty wrapper out of his highest shelf, then starts stuffing his face. They were a little dry and hard but still good. 

    "Why are you giving me a phone, Hank?” 

    "So you can call.”

    “…”

    “It’s a prepaid, contract's good ‘till next year.” he adds as an afterthought.

    “I forgot to give it to ya last night. Good thing ya didn't scram at the crack-ass o'dawn.” Hank can't help the little pang of something that catches in his voice.

    “I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, Hank.”

    “Hey, don't sound so glum. This isn't a goodbye. Why do ya think I'm giving you this thing? Ya better call me every now and then. I know you're busy, but I’m sure ya can spare a few minutes and you never forget, so ya ain't getting rid of me that easy.” he was rambling. He was feeling a lot of emotions and rambling. Was he being overbearing? He'd never gotten to this point with Cole so he wasn't sure if it was too much or not but fuck that, he wanted to keep in touch. Who knew how long it’d take for things to get settled, if they ever did. He'd regret not having a means to check up on the plastic bastard. 

    “Thank you, Hank.” oh nevermind. The kid seemed happy, heck he was almost beaming (for him anyway, on a normal person, android or no, it'd look like he was having a particularly difficult time dealing with a sneeze).

    They were having a moment. Hank wasn't sure what to do with it so he just smiled back and walked over for another quick side-hug. This time Connor was less stiff with returning it.

    “Welp, time to pack Sumo and get on my way, I guess. Got a long drive ahead.” Sumo woofed at the mention of his name and made his way to them, leaning his big bear head on Connor's hip for more attention (which was eagerly given).

    “Where were you being stationed again?” huh, something escaping wonder-boy's notice. How new.

    “Ugh, don't remind me, now I need to unpack all that shit in that stupid tiny apartment in Troy.” he was lucky he had acquaintances there, he'd managed to find cheap rent in the town he was being reassigned to.

   All the officers in the DPD were being scattered around the surrounding towns of Detroit. He was happy he wouldn't be living in a barrack. Fowler had family there so he'd be close by. Unfortunately Reed's mother lived there too so he'd have to work together with him again, most likely in the same precinct. He didn't really give a shit about the rest of his colleagues, maybe except for Chris who had left early with his family. 

    “I’ve written the address down in the phone somewhere, if yer itching to send me fanmail.”

    Connor did that freaky white-hand thing on the phone then focused on him again.

    “Got it.” Hank saw that fake-innocent look again.

    “I’ll be sure to send you… something nice.”

    “Ya don't even have property, how are ya gonna send me anything?”

    “I’m sure I can find a way.”

    “Ugh. Just. Have yer fun, but nothing freaky or too big, there's barely enough room in there for Sumo and I to stand.”

    “...Hank, I'm sorry… you're being moved out of your own home. If there was –“

    “I know, son, I know.” he reassured with a heavy pat on the back (that annoyingly didn't even budge him)

    “Ok, time to get a move on. I need to get there by this evening if I have any hope for a good night's sleep.” Hank reluctantly moved away, he imagined it was like ripping off a bandaid – the faster he did it the less time it’d hurt.

    About fifteen minutes later, they managed to get Sumo in the car (there was only room for him to sit in the passenger's seat, Hank would have to drive slow).

    Another slightly longer hug later, Hank finally buckled in and started the car.

    “Don't be stranger now, ya hear?” he prompted the kid one last time. He was leaning over the passenger side, getting one last pet in for Sumo (who returned the affection with a big wet lick that reached all the way to that tuft of hair and left it sticking up comically)

    “I promise, Hank. Take care of yourself, and Sumo.”

    “Of course. You too kid.”

    “ _If you need anythin-_ “ they both started at the same time and stopped, puzzled.

    Hank chuckled and Connor just shook his head in amusement.

    “See you later, Hank.”

    “Be seein' ya, son.” with one last thump on the hood of the car, Connor stepped away and Hank peeled out of the driveway. He'd also left a copy of the key to the house in the phone box, hidden under the headset. Hopefully it wouldn't get chucked in the trash by accident (doubtful, but maybe he should have given him a puzzle box with the key, that way he'd be sure it’d get found).

    This was definitely not a goodbye. Hank knew it was necessary to leave for now, but he planned to come back at the first opportunity.

    Sumo whined and stuck his head out the half-open window to look back at the lonely figure, waving subdued in the middle of the road.

    “It’ll be ok, bud. We'll be back.” another pathetic whine was the reply.

    Hank got one last glance at the silhouette before taking a turn. Despite his best efforts he felt like shit, like he was abandoning Connor. He knew how capable the android was but… he'd miss the goof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making this sadder bc I'm EVIL.


	3. Cool Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue with Connor and his attempts at doing stuff.  
> Markus has an challenge.

    Keeping busy was a… pleasant feeling.

    At least, he thought it was.

    Except for the regularly scheduled three hours of standby he had every three-to-four days, Connor never really sat still for too long. Of course, there were meetings where he was required to show up (although, in his opinion, he could just as well participate remotely, he could multitask and get more things done faster but Markus kept insisting he had to “make a personal appearance” and “socialize with their people”) but usually he was going back and forth between the tower and their fortifications, guiding and planning new construction work, programming drones for regular sweeps in different areas, sharing hand-to-hand and arms training, overseeing troop deployments (though this wasn't his area of expertise), setting up security checkpoints and a password system and most importantly leading a small team of explorers in mapping out and sometimes breaking into all the hidden and locked rooms of the Cyberlife tower.

    There were more hidden research and development rooms than he expected, there was a whole section of the underground levels he had discovered entirely by accident after someone had stepped in a tiny drop of blood right next to a hidden wall-door, then smeared trace remnants of that little drop all over the clean floors until Connor had spotted the tracks and followed them to the wall.

   He hadn't managed to find any hidden security system or opening mechanisms. The only reason they kept looking was because there was another small drop of blood seemingly leading _under_ the wall. After further inspection, he noticed the seal at the bottom.

    They had to break it down.

    The leftover explosives from the military R&D level were quite useful.

    Once the rubble and dust had settled (and Connor surreptitiously interfaced with the security panel on the other side to stop the annoyingly loud alarms) their small group crowded in the hidden antechamber only to find… another door.

    This one was reinforced and there were no visible hinges, gaps or weak spots. Using explosives again would take a long time, if it worked at all with what they had. Fortunately, the small observation area on the side could be hacked and it offered some insight into what was on the other side. It seems this was the development and testing area for a secret new type of android. The fact that it was so securely hidden away was… concerning.

    The only way to get in was with a physical keycard, attempts at hacking the heavy-duty door or blowing out parts of the walls were met with failure.

    Connor had some tracking to do.

    The blood they had found had been too old, too degraded and contaminated by cleaning agents to yield any conclusive results and once the wall had been blown up, Connor couldn't find any other traces of it. Someone had tried to hide their tracks but had slipped up, they’d probably been in a hurry.

    He had managed to infer the blood type was AB – probably…

    He'd wanted to start searching for possible leads to finding the keycard right away, but was stopped by Makus' gentle yet firm hold on his shoulder.

    “Hi.”

    Connor paused mid-step, the simple greeting had caught him off-guard. He recovered quickly and parroted a reply then allowed himself to be steered away by their leader.

    “While I appreciate your dedication and determination to solving this, I really think you should take a break.” Markus finally added once they were far enough away from the group so as to have a private conversation.

    “A break… but I'm just gett-“

    “No butts.”

    “Excuse me?”

    “Not yet.”

    “…” his social module was stumped, it didn't know what other conversation options to suggest so Connor remained dumbly silent, waiting (and hoping) for more information.

   He felt… awkward… just staring at each other and he averted his eyes, a frown working it's way between his brows.

    Markus took pity on him (finally) and continued.

    “Listen, this thing isn't going anywhere and if you haven't found leads by now, I doubt there are any available - at least until we get that place cleaned up and study it.”

    “Correct, bu –“

    “Ah-ah, what did I say about the butts?” he asked expectantly.

    “… no butts.” Connor answered dejectedly after another long silence.

    “Exactly! You've done enough for now Connor, let the others take up some of the slack. Take a breather. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?”

    His answer was immediate.

    “That would be last Tuesday, when I visited Lieutenant Anderson before he had to leave. Thank you again for that.”

    “Yes, yes, you don't need to ask for permission whenever you want to go out by the way. And that was over a week ago. Are you telling me you've been working non-stop this whole time?”

    Connor wasn't certain what answer would be satisfactory, he oscillated between an outright lie and telling the truth since deflecting wouldn't work. He respected Markus too much to lie. He settled on an almost-truth after 0.8 seconds of consideration.

    “No?”

    “Going in standby doesn't count.” Markus smiled at the annoyed huff Connor gave him. He was fun to tease.

    “…. Yes.”

     Markus fixed his friend with a dry stare.

    “I don't understand what you expect from me, Markus. Isn't it ideal that I make myself useful? What's the point of all this if we fail at keeping ourselves _safe_?”

    “You're not responsible for everything, you know, and you don't have to feel like you owe anyone anything.”

    Connor actually scoffed at him. If it weren't marginally annoying, Markus would have felt proud at how much his friend had broken out of his aloof shell. He just needed a little push (ok, he needed a lot of push, and coercing, and no tolerance for bullshit – but still)

    “Of course I'm responsible. _I_ brought that mess to your doorstep and it means that  _I_  need to fix it.” he stated in a firm tone.

    “No. You don't.”

    Connor just squinted up at the ceiling. Sometimes talking to Markus was like arguing with a particularly stubborn cliff.

    “Here’s what I suggest Connor, and I really want you to take some time to think about it.” he guided him again, further down the white corridor, their footsteps clacking with an echo until they reached the carpeted area of a lobby.

    “Take a few days off, clear your mind, if anything happens that only you can handle, I promise I'll personally call you and put you back to work.”

   He didn't know what to do with so much idle time, he'd be stuck in his own head – or worse, he'd have to… talk to people. About things. That weren't work.

    He’d probably even have to share things about himself. He wasn’t sure if he could navigate a conversation without a clear goal in mind. He'd tried before. Tried to... integrate...with the Jericho androids. His past made that difficult and his most recent actions only made it worse.

    He’d managed to strike a snippy sort of friendship with North, but that was mostly Markus' influence and her grumpy nature reminded him of Hank, which made him want to get along in a similar fashion for some reason.

    Simon was understandably wary of him. Even if he'd supposedly been forgiven so Connor kept a polite distance.

    Josh had somehow detected that his social module was doing most of the talking, while they had a lot of interests in common and a similar curiosity for the world, it seemed as though any attempts on Connor's side to make himself likeable had failed. He was apparently being “fake”.

    And Markus… he was polite to everyone, they got along and even teased each other from time to time but Connor would never overstep his bounds.

    The rest of the androids either looked at him with restrained fear, muted awe or an odd balance between the two.

    “Here's what I have in mind.” Markus' words snapped him back out of his spiraling thoughts. Had he noticed the panic? Wait, was that panic? It felt unpleasant all the same.

    “You still go to that condo near the Modern Art Museum?”

    “Y-yes, the new complex is almost finished and it's close enough to the tower that I can work from there and keep an eye on the Northern-side fortifications.”

    “And here I was, fooled into believing you'd found a place you liked for yourself.”

    “I do like it. It is… adequate.” Now it was Markus' turn to sigh at the ceiling. He recovered quickly though.

    “Is the complex fit for humans?”

    Connor only blinked twice in surprise before answering.

    “It has already been equipped with all the necessities for human habitation and most of the apartments are already furnished.” the answer was yet again, painfully mechanical and straight to the point.

    “But why do you ask?”

    “Oh, just curious.”

    “Markus.”

   “Fine-fine. If you go home and relax tonight, I'll send you some… interesting reading material tomorrow morning.” why was he smiling like that. Connor didn't like being out of the loop but he liked unravelling puzzles. Was Markus taking advantage of that?

    “That still doesn't answer my question.”

    “Too bad. Oh, and consider going for a walk too, Midtown is beautiful in the evening.” definitely taking advantage.

    “Ok.” Connor replied simply.

    “Really? Huh. I thought I'd have to badger you more about this.” he sounds genuinely surprised yet pleased as he sits up straighter and holds his hands behind his back

   “You still can, if it makes you _feel_ better.” Connor can be sly too. He throws a wink in too, just because.

    “Hmph, tempting, but I think I'll wait for a new opportunity.”

    Connor makes his way to the elevator, eager to go look for the hints Markus left him. What is he planning and why the mystery...

    “Have a good night, Markus.”

    “See you soon.”

   The smile on their leader's face is infectious as the elevator doors close, slowly taking Connor back to the ground floor. There's even a happy little tune playing. Connor is relieved this isn't the same one he'd killed those guards in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I always a sad last thought hahaha  
> He has issues, ok?


	4. Take five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor unravels parts of the puzzle, about himself and what's to come.

    The walk through Midtown _had_ been pleasant.

    Also very informative.

    Connor had steadily made his way out of the Jericho tower (he soon realized the jittery little hop to the center of his torso was petty satisfaction that the Cyberlife logo had already been removed) towards his new home (he'd found Hank's key but it didn't feel right to just use his house – also it was too far away), contemplating and replaying the conversation with Markus again in his head while his background processes sorted and catalogued the day's findings.

    He also called Hank and had a longer conversation. He’d called to check in the evening of the day Hank had left over a week ago. The old man had still been unpacking back then and their conversation had been cut short by the landlord showing up. Connor had also sent a few texts every now and then in the leading days but had busied himself so much that it was always too late to call.

    This time, they stayed on the phone the whole walk to his complex, he listened to Hank's boisterous accounts of what he'd been doing, how boring the town was, how Sumo had made a friend with the french bulldog next-door (even sent him a few pictures, many of them blurry or badly framed, but pleasant to look at nonetheless).

    Hank also complained about having to work with “that rat Reed” again, berated the quality of the office coffee machine and lack of a decent burger joints and reiterated his dislike for there being “nothin’ to do”.

    Connor was glad to hear that he was showing up on time for work and seemed to be living a healthier lifestyle.

    When it was Hank's turn to ask how he'd been doing, Connor suddenly felt at a loss. What had he accomplished really? Not much, and definitely not enough. He felt an unpleasant heat crawling up the back of his neck and suffusing his face.

   “Is errthing alright?” his reverie was interrupted after a 5 second pause on his end.

    “It's… _fine_ , Hank. I'm just… not sure.”

    “'Bout what?”   

    Connor ran a hand through his hair, feeling the need to do something with his hands, to move. He almost felt the urge to run. From what and towards where, he didn't know.

    “About… my role here.”

    When he didn't continue, Hank huffed in the phone. He heard some rustling, the clink of plates and then a heavy ' _womph_ ' as if Hank had thrown himself on a couch.

    “Well, don't keep me hangin'. What's eatin' ya?”

     “I’m not entirely sure.”

    “Well, how d'ya _feel_?”

    “Good question.” and he had no idea how to even begin answering it. He thought he was adapting to his new feelings, but apparently he was just burying them under the pretense of work. Not that his efforts had been completely useless. But it still felt like it wasn't fractionally enough.

    Hank scoffed in his ear.

    “Hah, I guess it'll take time for the guilt to chill a bit.”

    “Is that what this is?”

    “Well, I dunno, sounds like it, I guess?”

    “…it's awful.”

    Hank guffaws and the sounds get muffled as if he’s putting the phone away for a few seconds to compose himself.

    Connor feels a new feeling. He definitely does not appreciate being laughed at for failing at emotions. Failing in general seems to be unpleasant for him, but that's nothing new.

    “Sorry…. 'm sorry for that, it's just. The way ya _said_ it was…” he coughs one last time.

    “Listen, son. It's ok to feel these things. And it's gonna be hard for a while. God knows I'm the last person to be giving advice on healthy coping mechanisms, but don't forget: ya ain't alone and yer doin' good things there.”

    “Will it ever go away?” on his end, Hank winces. It's not an easy thing to answer and the kid sounds so… lost. Not for the first time he wishes he were there, to see the look on his face, to pat him on the shoulder.

    “I dunno... It's your burden to carry. One day you'll hafta decide.”

   “I’ve decided. –“ he pauses for emphasis “- it isn't working.”

    “Hah, if only it were that easy, kid.”

    The short silence that follows is more lax. Connor can't explain it but he feels… lighter. Somehow, despite not getting any real answers, he'd calmed down a bit.

    Hank sighs and puts Sumo on the phone – who woofs, then wishes him a good night. Connor does the same and they both hang up.

    He's almost reached his complex. Curiously, there are more lights visible.

    Perhaps more androids had decided to move into the buildings? Maybe having neighbors will be a good thing.

    As he nears, he sees a couple of figures moving big boxes from multiple cargo trucks. He heads for his building's lobby, going for the elevator that will take him to the 13th floor (the last two floors were only partly finished).

    The condo he chose is one of the smaller ones available but with a perfect view of the Northern side of the city from it's clear glass wall and with access to a communal balcony on the other side if he needs to survey the whole area as well as proximity to the emergency exit. It's furnishings are modern and elegant with tones of light cream, beige and gray.

    He offers to help one of the androids carting what looks like… bags of food? The man takes one look at him, fumbles with a hello and excuses himself with a “we aren't suppose to tell you anything tonight”. Which leaves Connor even more confused (and a little offended) than before.

    Normally, he would investigate and probably press the others for more information, but he’s already concluded that humans are supposed to be moved in here.

    Was Markus finally preparing places to stay for the homeless population still hiding in the outskirts? Doubtful, there were already operations underway for setting up adequate shelters and medical centers in other places, definitely nowhere near Midtown.

    Still calculating, he makes his way to his place, locks the door behind him and takes off his jacket then carefully to places it on the hanger.

    He walks over to the big windowed wall, the heating had been turned on in the building. Cold water and electricity had already been running (not that he had need for either but it was nice to have light and he wanted the water to wash his clothes and sometimes himself whenever necessary)

    He goes to the open kitchenette he never uses and turns on the stove. The gas is on.

    He contemplates. Who else would be moved here and for what purpose?

    He makes a mental list of possibilities: dignitaries? (maybe but he would have been immediately briefed on security concerns for them), reporters? (possibly but it was far too early for a fluff piece on androids yet), medics? (unlikely, there were plenty of androids with medical knowledge around).

    Who else…

    In stead of computing more possibilities, he decides to take Markus' advice.   

    He could probably crack this, but going into standby sounded good after the extra emotions today.

    He passed by his mostly untouched bedroom (except for the wardrobe which held a couple of suits, plain white button-down shirts and some casual wear he'd 'appropriated' from a mall that had already been broken into) and took a seat on the beige living room couch. He dimmed the lights remotely and prepared to enter standby.

    He looked forward to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet


	5. I get around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some POV changes

Checklist:

~~Clothes~~

~~Shoes~~

~~Documents~~

~~Books~~

~~Station Tablet~~

~~Laptop~~

~~Kitchen stuff~~

~~Cleaning stuff~~

~~Bedroom stuff~~

Treatment

    The last item had yet to arrive and would be delivered to the android controlled Detroit - at the end of the month, as usual. Luckily the details had been hammered out quickly and no awkward demands or questions had been asked.

    She didn't expand the list to re-check all of the individual items from each header, if anything had been missed, it would probably be easily replaced. It was too late now anyway, most of her things had already been delivered and now she only carried a small satchel with her laptop, tablet and phone (and a couple of granola bars).

    The flight would take about 2 hours, followed by a car ride which would take them to the outskirts of Detroit where they would be dropped off then they’d walk to the barricades and board another car that would take them to their new residence for what would likely be the next few months (or at least, that was what her optimistic side suggested. The pessimist in her thought they'd probably get shot somewhere along the way, or arrested. Or maybe imprisoned indefinitely if they made it in, who knew.)

    She'd met most of her team, from what she could tell, they'd all been cherry-picked from all over the country.

    She wondered how many volunteers there had been. And what the selection criteria had been. Obviously, someone there appreciated professionalism and high win-rates since they took her and her boss.

    She'd talked to about this at length with Madame Kunlose. Except for the two of them, who would act as team leader and respectively herself as second - the other three brought on (two of whom were fresh graduates of all things) would offer support.

    Their team was pathetically small for such a grand undertaking, but she was ambitious and with Madame Kunlose at the head, she had no doubt they would manage. She imagined the androids were also capable of assisting them.

    Their responsibilities were, simply put, to represent the androids as a species and help them win personhood while no doubt also showing them how to navigate the shark-infested waters of the American legal system.

    She was perfectly aware these machines with flawless memory would be more than capable of representing themselves, but they couldn't, not yet.

    If they fulfilled their responsibilities, they'd probably work themselves out of a job in the long-run - but imagine! Being partly responsible for the emancipation of an entirely new species! It was too good an opportunity to pass up. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.

    The fame and fortune that would surely follow would be a bonus.

    They'd write about them in history AND law books.

    Ah, she was still good at self-pep-talk.

    She took one last look at her home, recently purchased with this year's blood-money. She had no attachment to it, everyone and everything that really meant something to her had been removed or sent away.

    She made her way to the automated cab waiting outside, expensive shoes clacking noisily on the pavement.

 

* * *

 

 

    The excitement and nervousness in the air was almost palpable.

    North _hated_ it.

    Despised it with every fiber of her being.

    This felt like selling out, like keeling over and begging the humans for mercy in stead of setting their own rules.   

     But…

    But Markus and _Simon_ of all people, who she'd expected to not want anything to _do_ with humans anymore had made a good point.

    They'd won this little piece of ground but it was just a city and North wanted to see the world someday. She'd shut her mouth and go along with this – if it worked.    

    If not, she could always say “I told you so.” and get some petty satisfaction out of that.    

    They were waiting for their “guests” to arrive. The people who would supposedly represent them from a legal standpoint. She already wanted to give them the boot.

    She was perked on top of the giant cargo container that had been used to make a sort of wall - the whole city was full of constructs like these, the streets on the outskirts full of obstacles – in case the army decided to invade. They were digging bunkers in case the humans sent aerial strikes and constantly monitored the skies and the ground.

    So far, the only humans in the city were the poor bastards left behind and soon these chumps would be joining.

    The five of them were walking towards their position (rather slowly and seemingly just as spooked by androids as they were by their own people), monitored by a police chain on the other side, drones on both sides and by their small 'welcoming team'.

    She'd insisted on coming along and being obnoxious by scaling the crate, openly defying the humans and their guns.

    Josh and Connor (who had finally removed the headlight – she wanted to ask him about that later) were standing side-by-side, Markus waiting further behind them, hidden from sight. It was risky having all of them out in the open like this.

    Only Simon and his aides were left behind in the tower.

    They also had an armed escort, Connor had asked that any combat droids be present for security purposes (of which there were few – the three who'd made their way to Detroit from a nearby army barrack – same bland chiseled face, same clothes, same kind of weapons, same burly build. They didn't know about any others making it).

    Complementing this small but capable group were a few construction androids (who, in her opinion, were much fun to be around than the sourfaced soldiers).

    The humans had finally made it to the barricade and slipped in, one of them – the oldest in the group - eyed her dubiously atop the crate.

    So, she stuck her tongue out (childish but funny). The human just shook her head and focused on the men before her, a trace of a smile on her lips.

    She watched Markus step forward and introduce himself, Connor and Josh flanking him and the guards arranging themselves in a loose defensive formation around all of them.

    Pleasantries done, they stuffed the humans in SUVs and drove off, she stayed behind.

    She'd discovered she liked riding a motorcycle and the others knew better than to coddle her or tell her what to do. She'd leave when the humans on the outside left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break, busy weekend, busier Monday at work and all that shiz
> 
> Edit: Oh, I forgot to mention, I despise how awfully written North was.   
> Davey can choke, she would be the one to fight the hardest for saving Simon on the roof scene.  
> So yeah, I'm gonna change her, try and make her a person and not the angry sexy lamp with a dirty bomb she was forced to be in the game.


	6. Renegades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More POV changes. Some plot. Couple of feelings.  
> Some infodumping but it felt like the best way to introduce y'all to everyone.
> 
> Edit: I had to go back and change a name here because I forgot I renamed one of the OC's oops hahah

   The ride back had been _tense_ , or – Josh, at least, had been tense.

   The humans were somewhat apprehensive but outwardly calm.

    Connor had his mild 'I'm totally innocent and not an action hero' poker face. 

    Markus had been composed as always and their guards had kept a careful stony disposition.

    He supposed North might have shared some of his jitters but not for the same reasons.

    He was excited! And a little scared. But mostly looking forward to conversing with these people. He'd studied just about everything he could get his hands on the previous days (whether from books or transfers from former android law-firm and lobbyist secretaries and even from Connor, who was programmed with most criminal laws and regulations and another police auxiliary who had more mundane things available) He knew the humans had come with their own resources and had first-hand experience – that was key. They could gather all the knowledge in the world but knowing how to apply and who to got to for the best outcome would work to their advantage. And an opportunity to learn should never be turned away.

    He’d have to be patient though. The humans – no, he shouldn't call them that. His _colleagues_ would officially start the next morning. Right now they were given time to settle in their new residences and rest overnight.

    He'd struck a tentative conversation with the youngest of the bunch. Only 23 years old and had just graduated a few months ago. It felt good, talking to young scholars again…

    Damien Lin was everything he liked about students. Eager, curious and energetic, the young man seemed just as happy to finally have someone to talk to as Josh was.

    Soon their cars reached the complex and it was time to let them settle.

    They parted (almost reluctantly) as the little group of humans made their way into their new homes for the time being.

    Josh and Simon had been in charge of organizing and supplying the goods moved in the other night. He pinged Simon and showed him pictures of the meeting as he'd been asked.

* * *

 

    Simon smiled at the excited chatter from Josh, while keeping an eye on their security reports.

    It was good practice to always have someone tucked away in case (he _shuddered_ ) something happened to the others.  

    He knew all their guests by now but it was still good to see their reception start off cordially. It had taken three weeks to get everything set up, mostly in secrecy in case they failed. He counted this as a small victory, he had hoped for more people but… they weren't in a position to complain.

    He was hopeful that they could finally get started. One could not propose a bill without being a considered a person by law, or, rather, that was what they had been told (they'd tried already, every Representative and Senator they'd to contacted had either ignored them or refused to help).

    He wondered what these five could help with, Markus was hopeful humanity would listen to their own but historically, humans were assholes. He supposed it was a good thing the government had allowed their involvement.

    Only one way to find out.

* * *

 

    Having neighbors after all this time alone was… _strange_.

    He’d led their guests to their respective rooms. He already knew where each would be housed and had set up the monitoring system on their floor.

    They had had the liberty to choose which rooms on the 9th floor to occupy prior to arriving.

    Connor touched his temple, the one now lacking an LED, and went over their files again in his head.

    Miss **Emeliè Kunlose** , d.o.b: 20th of September 1987, no criminal record.

    She would act as the leader of the group, having the most experience. 

    Graduated magna cum laude at the Law school of Yale University in 2012 with a Bachelor in Political Science. Never married. A high profile trial lawyer in Washington DC.

    Multiple articles and interviews marked her as a person on interest in the lives of several Senators and Congressmen.

    Was involved in several controversial cases that had made the headlines over the years. The most recent one being 3 years ago while defending Emery Marshall (shareholder at Cyberlife of all things) – who was accused of murdering his fiancée at the time (the ruling had been “Not guilty”, the files they'd gathered showed the basis had been inconclusive evidence).

    Her involvement in their endeavors would be key if they could get her to use her relations.

    As with all their guests, Connor had started making a psychological profile based on the personnel file Markus had sent him (as promised) three days ago, and the scant interactions he'd observed upon her arrival.

    Driven, ambitious and calculating. She seemed to be the type of person comfortable with the power she had earned during her life. Her manner of speech was direct and no-nonsense. Goal-oriented and successful at it if her past was anything to go by.

    He'd have to complete his profile with time but he'd already constructed part of the personality matrix settings that would most appeal to her.

    He felt a little wary of her, somehow she reminded him of Amanda, the type of person one would not want to disappoint - but less… cold.

    She'd chosen the biggest of the rooms. _Must like having her space_.

    Her protégé, **Diane Hock** d.o.b: 23rd May 2009, had also agreed to come along.

    Not surprising considering Miss Kunlose was her boss and seemed to have taken a position of authority in her life.

    She had no criminal record but was registered abs being involved in a car accident 3 years ago.

    Also a graduate of Yale University in 2033 with a Bachelor's in Forensic Psychology _(possible conversation subject?_ ).

    He'd noted the slight difference in her file’s picture attachment and how she presented herself this afternoon.

    He hadn't managed to glean too much of her personality. He could surmise she was determined to succeed based on her case-history and past.

     Must have been a favorite pupil of Miss Kunlose when she had taught at Yale - her career had been jumpstarted by being added as a research aide before she even graduated.

    She had chosen the room facing East. It suggested she was an early riser and enjoyed sunlight.

    He was still working on a personality matrix for her.

    Next on his list was **Michelle Freeman** , d.o.b 5th December 2011. No criminal record.

    Graduated with an Associate's degree in 2037 at Brown University in Rhode Island (earned one of the few scholarships offered). Held a Bachelor's in Marketing. Had yet to pass the Bar.

    Worked as a paralegal at a small law firm for a year before being let go.

     There were no more details about the circumstances and she hadn't been hired since.

    She was also a puzzling character. Even more so than Miss Hock. His first impression was of a taciturn and surly young woman. She'd only introduced herself and shook hands then busied herself by watching the scenery go by once they'd all boarded the cars.

    Her past proved she was intelligent, perhaps her former employers hadn't enjoyed her personality? He didn't have enough information to form an opinion.

     She didn't seem to dislike androids and had acted the same with her human colleagues.

    He hadn't found much about her extracurricular activities during her schooling years or of her political affiliations in the her file.

     Still, she had kept to herself but had tried to be polite. He could use that as a start for personalizing his interactions with her.

    She’d had no preference for her housing space. “Whatever’s left.” had been her reply when asked. _(Ornery or just uncaring?_ )

    The friendliest by far had been **Alisha Wasem** , born on 28th February 2013. Criminal record only showed a few parking tickets.

    Graduate of the University of Michigan Political Sciences this year with a Bachelor's in Computer Programming _(how… versatile_ ).

    She had interned as a consulting aide during the Mayor elections for Ann Arbor but had otherwise little experience.

    She made up for it by being generally pleasant and outgoing. Out of everyone she had been the chattiest, curious about the people around her, engaging anyone who looked interested in conversation.

    He'd already classified her as the 'social butterfly'. Connor was confident this one would probably be easy to befriend just by mirroring her gestures, moods and speech patterns.

    She and Mr. Lin (the last on the list) were the only ones who had publicly shown support for android liberation online.

    He supposed they would make for good interview material, if Markus' plans unfolded accordingly.

    The youngest, **Damien Lin** , d.o.b: 7th August 2015. No criminal record.

    Finished school a year early. Also a graduate of University's of Michigan Political sciences with a bachelor's in Applied Chemistry _(he wondered what made these two change their minds_ ).

    Good friends with Miss Wasem and seemed to have accompanied her here. Polite but shy around too many people.

     Took a liking to Josh for whatever reason and once they got talking… there wasn't much chance for anyone else to contribute.

    The two friends had asked to be “bunked together” and as such had received the West corner apartment with two bedrooms and separate bathrooms.

    His analysis had concluded that getting along with Miss Wasem would likely make Mr. Lin easier to approach and predict.

    He wasn't certain what value the young man brought to the team but he supposed enthusiasm and a willingness to help and support androids counted for something. Connor checked his findings over again trying to find new angles but stopped soon after.

     Perhaps “taking a break” more often would benefit him. There was nothing else for him, specifically, to do today anyway.

    So, he called Hank - maybe sharing some good news (despite probably being monitored) and hearing Sumo’s excited “whuffs” at his voice coming from the speaker would be pleasing.

    Maybe he could even get some help, get Hank to look into their guests, people were never as simple as they seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanon that I felt made sense witht he game mechanics when he scans people: Connor keeps files in his head for everyone he meets and pays attention to the ones he actually needs.  
> His adaptable personality matrix uses that information to better manipulate them (or, it used to, now he's one of the 'good guys' so he uses it to "integrate")
> 
> This felt like the best way to quickly introduce everyone to the new OCs (and I actualy wanted to have more but kept them limited - there will be new android OCs as well - some that are already popular in the fandom too ;) )


	7. Wicked game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody finally gets together to officially start woot. 'Bout damn time.
> 
> Phew that was a lot of people talking.

    One upside to temporarily moving into an android city was how _quiet_ it was. She'd slept like the dead.

    True, she'd also worked out in the evening to get rid of the lingering jitters but last night she'd gotten some of the best sleep in her life.

    Must have been the exhaustion. And the relaxing hour in a jacuzzi/bathtub/whatever that thing was _(bubble massages are a godsend_ ).

    Waking up a little after sunrise in a giant king-sized bed had been a bonus (perhaps she should get one of her own).

    She had a quick shower then breakfast (fully stocked fridge, _nice_ ) and packed some sandwiches for lunch (she didn't want her hosts thinking she expected them to wait on her, it felt rude and cultivating a good working relationship was important).

   Diane wondered, idly, what Jeanie would think of her now. She’d always been the better one, she probably supported androids. It had been almost three years since Diane had ruined their friendship. She'd seen her last week when Jeanie had come to collect their cat at Diane's request.

   She seemed to be doing ok but hadn't wanted to talk.

    Diane supposed it was enough she'd showed up.

    Her visit had brought a lot of bad memories back though.

    Damn that asswipe… and damn herself for getting involved in bad family affairs. It had cost her too much and the payout tasted more bitter every month that passed.

    News of human meddling in android affairs had yet to be released, so Jeanie probably hadn’t heard. Then again, Jeanie's father (the _asswipe_ ) would have probably been kept in the loop by someone, somewhere who was greedy or desperate enough to take his money for information.

    He might have told Jeanie just to spite them both.

    She took a moment to focus. This bad mood wouldn’t help. Their meeting was in just over an hour in the conference room on the 13th floor. Just enough time left to put her face on and get dressed.

    She almost bumped into her boss while exiting the apartment. How that woman managed to be sneaky while wearing heels was a mystery. Years of practice, probably.

    They didn’t wait for the rest of the team and headed up.

    Predictably, the two kids were a few minutes late, with Miss Freeman coming in last looking like she'd just woken up… or perhaps never having slept by the looks of those bags under her eyes ( _and not even bothering to smooth them out, pff_ ).

   The androids had been punctual, already gathered before everyone else, although the guards from yesterday were missing, there were a couple of new faces.

    She'd studied them again in the few minutes of waiting. They were all, of course, ridiculously good-looking ( _not that she felt intimidated or was anything to scoff at either, but still_ ).

    She'd been briefed on all the major players by mysterious men in dark suits and shades ( _how cliché_ ) before coming here. They'd instructed their little group to transmit any and all information they gathered about this place. Fat chance of that with their phones confiscated and any attempt at communication with the outside world closely monitored (the androids had laid that out on the table right after the introductions yesterday).

    Markus was sitting at the head of the large conference table ( _nice coat_ ), flanked by the lady who was perching on the crates yesterday ( _who must have been North, she looked grumpy, arms crossed, expression tense_ ) and another blonde android ( _who could only be Simon, he avoided looking any human in the eye_ ).

    They looked neutral but would sometimes smile and throw furtive glances at each other. Probably doing the weird mind-speak thing.

    Josh, the dorky one, was standing close by. His face lit up when Mr Lin and Ms Wasem entered ( _how cute_ ).

    Connor, the previous (infamous) android-hunter was looking out the windows almost… detached… from everyone else. For a guy who was supposed to be one of the most dangerous machines ever built he sure looked harmless, like a next-door neighbor dentist.

    She recognized a Chloe model waiting patiently and smiling near the door. She let Miss Freeman in when she finally deemed to arrive and excused herself.

    Markus rose and everyone who was sitting followed.

    “Welcome again, friends. I'm glad to see us all finally gathered. I'll start off by introducing Simon –“ he gestured at blondie “he’s the one mostly responsible for organizing this meetup.” Simon smiled shyly and waved. “the one who left is Chloe, she'll be back soon.”

    “Thank you for having us. And for the reception.” Miss Kunlose promptly continued.

    “I'm sorry to cut the pleasantries short, but I think everyone here is eager to actually start doing something, not just talk about it.” there she goes, Diane had been wondering when she'd finally take control, she'd been unexpectedly reserved.

    “I like the enthusiasm. You seem to have something on your mind, would you like to begin?” Markus smoothly recovered, sitting back down and looking at her boss expectantly. Good sport.

    The others arranged themselves around the table and Chloe came back in with a tray of water bottles and glasses, politely placed them in front of each human and also took a seat, near the rest of her kind.

    “Yes. But first I have a question.” Miss Kunlose continued. Oop, here comes the lesson.

    "Have you got any expectations over how this process will unfold?” she asked the androids.

    They all took a moment to consider, Markus was just opening his mouth to speak before North interrupted.

    “Isn’t this why you're here? What are you asking _us_ for?” ah, abrasive.

    “Because she wants to see how much you guys know and how much she needs to explain.” Miss Freeman cut in. She either had balls of steel or didn't care about Emeliè's opinion. Risky either way.

    “What North meant –“ Markus shot her a dirty look, she just rolled her eyes “- is that we've all read up on the process of getting bills passed. And we know that in order to amend the Constitution, there needs to be a two-thirds majority vote in Congress in both the House of Representative and Senate or it can be done by a constitutional convention called by the same percentage of State legislatures. Once the amendment passes, it gets forwarded to the NARA’s Office of Federal Register. The Archivist submits the amendments to the State and notifies the Governors.”

    Everyone looks a little wide-eyed. They might have all been prepared with this knowledge but actually stating it aloud shows just how much work they have ahead.

    “Very good. Textbook answer.” Emeliè praises. She always did like the showmanship, especially in class.

    “But it's far too soon for that.” Diane often played the ‘downer’ in Emeliè's presentations. It made her somewhat unpopular at times but this tactic worked well with most clients.

    "And what would the first step be, by your judgement?” tall, dark and freckled asked after walking back to his window view. Diane craned her neck, _what was he looking at?_

    “We'd need to get a Senator or a Congressman on board first?” Miss Wasem spoke up.

    “Do we know any of those?” Mr Lin followed with an undignified snort.

    “Pfft, why do you think they invited the sharks?” guess Miss Freeman didn't care after all.

    “You have close ' _ties_ ' with a couple of Senators, don't you Miss Kunlose?” she continues, seemingly unaffected by Emeliè's sharp look her way.

    “In fact, this is probably why you and your shadow have been invited here.” _shadow_? As IF, she looked far too good to be in anyone's shadow, thank you very much, and she'd never been held back.

    The rumors hadn't reached everyone, the kids gasped softly and turned suspicious eyes on them both.

     The androids had no reaction. She was fairly certain they all knew but this only confirmed it.

    Maybe Miss Freeman would be useful after all, she had a sharp mind at least. Could to without the attitude.

    “Well…” Simon wheedled. “We kind of… got lucky on that one.”

     “How so?” Mr Lin had also stood up and seemed to orbit Miss Wasem.

    “Uh, we might have sent… more invitations. Than just you five.” he couldn't be serious.

    “To have more people to pick from?” Miss Wasem piped in.

   “That too…” it was Josh who answered now.

    Oh

    Oh _shit_

    “So… are you saying… that we are the _only_ ones who answered?” Diane had had enough of this dancing around the subject.

    A couple of the androids visibly winced at her hissed question. North just scowled harder. Connor turned around and she could see him fiddling with… a _coin_? They were having some serious revelations here and he was playing with a damn coin, who did he think he was? A Batman villain? Incredible.

    “Pretty much.” Chloe finally spoke up, tone annoyingly chipper.

    “This is… worse than I thought.” and that was an understatement Miss Freeman.

    Diane felt the sudden need to cradle her forehead in a palm.

    Miss Kunlose clapped her hands loudly and everyone looked back to her with various degrees of surprise, except for North and Connor who kept scowling at the floor and blankly flipping a coin, respectively.

    “We're getting off track.” she was being surprisingly patient. Had she known too? No, that couldn't be, she would have told Diane.

    “How, exactly, are the five of us supposed to convince _two-thirds_ of the asshole politicians to vote for something that doesn't benefit them?” Miss Wasem had a point there.

    “We start small.” Emeliè replied with a nod.

    “We need to appeal to the population again. It was positive public opinion that swayed the decision last time.” Diane continued while massaging her temples. This would take more than she expected.

   “There was also a whole lotta androids marching back then. I'd say those counted in the _swaying_ too.” so Mr Lin had a backbone. Diane fixed him with a squinted stare and he scratched at the back of his head sheepishly.

    “True, but a threat won't help this time.”

    “It wasn't a threat.” Connor intervened. “It was the right thing to do.”

    _Oh for the love of…_

    “I'm not saying that was the wrong move, _at the time_.” Diane was gritting her teeth by now. He was still flipping that damn coin. Markus seemed to follow her eyes and realize something because in the next few seconds Connor palmed the little metal disk and tucked it back into his breast pocket.

    “But it isn't what you need now.” Emeliè finished for her.

    Everyone in the room seemed to shift, some readjusting their clothes, others taking a sip of water. Diane was still standing up straight.

    “What do we need?” Josh timidly asked. Finally they were getting somewhere.

    “… a marketing campaign.” Miss Freeman answered after a short pause, her face finally showing an expression other than mild distaste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus via mind-link: "Yo dude, quit it, you're aggravating the human."  
> Connor via mind-link: "Oh really? Shit ok."
> 
> \--------------------
> 
> So, any thoughts? Comments are more than welcome.   
> Liked it, hated it, meh'd it?


	8. Overtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting continues. Some chaos ensues.   
> And a few more revelations.

 

    “A marketing campaign?!!?” North yelled and the men next to her seemed to all close their eyes at the same time. Chloe just looked faintly amused.

    “Why the fuck didn't you call in more people in marketing then?!” she looked to Simon, who was already looking back at her.

    “… I did.”

    _Awkward_

    Markus put his arms around both of them and they seemed to share something. It felt intimate, somehow, and Diane couldn't deny the need to turn away. She busied herself by looking out the window and caught Connor staring. She didn't take it personally, he was probably trying to look away from the three as well.

    Josh had somehow made his was closer to the kids. And struck a hushed conversation with them.

    Chloe was also edging closer seemingly interested in their discussion.

    Miss Freeman looked lost in thought and Emeliè was still eyeing the trio. Huh. It wasn't like her to be a voyeur.

    Finally, the three put a bit more distance between them.

    Connor sighed from the side and she saw his hand go up to his neck then pause and he lowered to his pocket again. _Oddball_.

    “We’ve deviated from the subject again.” he stated.

    Mr. Lin snorted and muttered 'deviated, ha' under his breath before realizing his mistake and shutting up. A couple of people were already smiling though.

    _Crisis averted_.

    “How would you propose we… conduct this campaign?” Simon asked.

    “Just like every other political campaign. You get people to listen to you and in this case, stir up enough of a stink that not listening to you causes more problems than it's worth.” Emeliè said.

    “This case is going to be won in the streets.” Diane confirmed. She knew as much going in. She'd worked enough publicized cases to see how public opinion could shift the verdict.

    “We still need to figure out how to get people on board again.” Miss Freeman added. Once the hype with the evacuation had died down, people seemed to have moved on with their lives. The protests and demands of the unfortunates with nowhere to go was being ignored more each day.

    “People aren't that hard to figure out, in a country fraught with injustice and a system only benefitting the rich, offering a glimpse of hope and appealing to people's better nature might win us some support.” who knew Mr Lin was good at social commentary, they should put him on TV.

    There was another group silence as everyone considered.

    “It’s long past lunchtime, would you like some refreshments?” Chloe announced. They'd gotten so caught up Diane had neglected the time.

    “Of course -“ Markus blinked and set his hands on the table. “- let's take a break and meet back here in two hours. We should check up with the tower anyway.” he motioned to Simon, North and Josh to follow him.

    Chloe exited in a different direction.

    Interesting, was Freckles not part of the android Council? Or was he just keeping an eye on them? Seemed a bit overkill to have him shepherding the humans. A couple of those big construction droids would have been enough to stop 5 humans. She might have worked out but she was no fighter, Emeliè had a bad hip (which she tried to hide) and the others didn't look like tough shit either.

    Then again, this guy had all sorts of new tech, and had worked with the Police _(ugh)_ , he was probably better at reading people than the average android.

   Chloe came back and ushered them to another nearby room with tables and a buffet. Too bad about her own packed lunch but it would have been ruder to refuse what was being offered.

    They all broke off into little groups again. Emeliè had gone to speak with the kids near the buffet (who were… trying a bit of everything, _ew savages_ ), she must have been working an angle or trying to get them on her side more.

    Chloe was speaking quietly to Freckles near the entrance. They were too far away for her to hear and she didn't care all that much.

   The food smelled good. 

    Diane shrugged, Miss Freeman had piled a plate high with food and had retreated to the farthest table. Didn't look like she wanted company.

   Oh well, a quiet lunch would be good after all the talk. She took her own plate to a table by the window. Maybe she would figure out what Freckles was so fascinated with outside. She got lost in her own thoughts (and the delicious food wow, was she glad she'd left the sandwiches) and was almost done eating before a figure took a the seat opposite hers.

    Speak (or, she supposed, _think_ ) of the devil and he shall appear.

    “Hello.” he began politely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lil' bit shorter.   
> Maybe I'll be able to post more often (i hope, but no promises)


	9. Don't get me wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continue with some awkward beans

    “My name is Connor. I'm –“

    “We’ve met.” apparently she still felt a little put off with him.

    “Ah, yes.” he was momentarily taken aback, recalculating a different approach.

    She sighed and pushed her almost empty plate away.

    “I apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you.” He'd planned on being the first one to apologize, but she surprised him.

    “No need, I actually came here to apologize as well. I did not mean to come across as… contrary… during the meeting.” or, that had been what he'd calculated was the likeliest cause for her ire.    

    “Actually, you're gonna think this is stupid but…” she hesitated and looked away again.

    He tilted his head in a gesture of attentiveness and waited. She glanced at him and puffed a breath behind her palm, gaze moving down at the table now. _(Was she… amused? At him?_ )

    She faked a cough and looked at him again. Her smile was pretty. ( _Wait what_ )

    “So – you do coin-tricks?” He was still processing his own inner turmoil and it took him an extra second to reply.

    “Yes, it is a means for me to calibrate my mental faculties and focus as well as check fine motor skills.”

    “Cool.”

    “Was that what bothered you?” he blurted without consulting other options. Perhaps he shouldn't have sounded so incredulous.

    “Uhm…well, you see. I don't exactly know why but… kinda? I'm over it, it was childish anyway. And it was probably because of my own mood anyway. I'm fine. You're fine. I mean, youdon'thavetostop because of me… or… anything…” she trailed off at the end, her expression suggesting embarrassment.

    “Wow, I don't usually ramble. Sorry about that. I’ll be normal and eloquent from now on, I promise.” Her shift into what he'd dubbed her “work persona” was almost seamless. Still, he'd gathered more information about her character, his own blunders aside.

    “I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that either.” he offered with a small calculated smile. He knew this one was good and not “creepy” since Hank had praised him for “looking fukin' normal for a change”.

    “But what was it that ruined your mood? I hope the accommodations have been adequate?”

    “No, the place is fine, great even. It was.. something personal… but don't worry, it won't get in the way of work. Today was a fluke.” His interrogation protocol was offering up several avenues of inquiry and he felt… curious. He curbed the strange urge, remembering Hank's advice about not pushing people too much outside an actual interrogation room. His exact words had been more… _decorated_ with curses… but Connor was confident he'd deciphered the intended message.

    Before he had a chance to change the subject there was a scraping sound of a chair being pushed back with more force than necessary and they both looked over to where Miss Freeman was already exiting the dining room, Chloe – who had told him she would attempt to speak to her while Connor focused on Miss Hock – left behind and bewildered at the table.

    He'd talk to Chloe later, he would have pinged her now but he knew how sensitive she was about intrusions upon her person (be they physical or mental) unless absolutely necessary. And this just looked like another badly caught human “mood” as Diane had pointed out about herself. Which was puzzling – Chloe was even better at mixing with humans than he was, and had almost 20 years of experience, even if she'd only been a deviant a couple of days longer than he.

    Diane had also risen and was frowning at the exit, face otherwise blank.

    “We still have just over half an hour left of the break, how far outside are we allowed to go?” she looked back at him, brows smoothed back to neutrality.

    “We'd prefer if you kept to the complex grounds for now.”

    “Got it. Excuse me.” She walked away and left the room as well.

    Miss Kunlose walked up behind him, arms loosely crossed over her chest.

    “This should be fun.” she murmured.

    “How do you mean?” his hand went to adjust a non-existent tie again, but this time he caught himself and smoothly transitioned to readjusting his collar in stead. He suddenly felt inadequate.

    “That girl's about to get a stern talking-to.” he almost asked 'which girl' before remembering the slightly tense dynamics between the three women a few hours ago.

    “Diane always valued a disciplined group.” she remarked nonchalantly.

    He excused himself and went to Chloe, she seemed to have recovered but couldn't tell him what had went wrong. Apparently they had been chatting amicably, Chloe managing to coax the young woman into a conversation. The last thing Chloe had asked was about her family, there had been no mention of family-related trauma in the personnel files so she had categorized it as a 'safe' topic. Miss Freeman had only frozen for a few seconds, then bolted with a muttered “Gotta wash m'hands.” (the way Chloe imitated her tone would have been amusing any other time).

    He told Chloe to mind the rest and went looking for the two women. They shouldn't be wandering around alone either, for their own safety. There were still androids who disagreed with Markus' decision, though he doubted any would act out with violence.

* * *

 

   

    Damien didn't like the sharks. He didn't like lawyers in general – Michelle seemed ok, if grumpy and self-isolating but he could guess she didn't have any self-serving hidden motives. He liked it less when the Elder Shark (as he'd started calling Miss Kunlose in the privacy of his own mind) sat down opposite him and Alisha. He'd wanted to invite Michelle over but…

    He scanned the room and saw her huddled in the corner, at least that nice Chloe had sat with her. Sharky Junior was eating alone. Good.

    Alisha, being Alisha started talking animatedly. This girl could talk to anyone. For hours. He still didn't know how she did it and they'd been best friends for three years.

    Elder Shark was almost pleasant, even tried to include him in the conversation a couple of times and would look to both of them in equal measure while talking.

    Somehow they'd gotten from talk about the trip here, to how nice the room was, to how good the food was, to work experience, to _icecream_?? and then to complimenting each other's earrings.

    He had to hand it to her, Elder Shark had a way with people, but Alisha wasn't hard to charm, at first at least.

    At the sudden noise they all turned to look at Michelle fleeing the place like the fires of hell were nipping at her heels.

    Chloe.exe had stopped working. She was just sitting there, not pretending to breathe anymore, like a porcelain doll.

    Sharky Junior followed soon after and Elder Shark went over to converse with a mostly silent Connor ( _when had he joined Junior?_ ).

    Then he left too after exchanging a few hushed words with Chloe. ( _Huh, why no mindlink?_ )

    Chloe walked over and invited them to dessert like nothing had happened.

>     He could go for some icecream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but include that line. Now he's the android sent by Jericho.


	10. You get what you give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a bit of OC interaction

    The air outside was frigid.

    Of course it was. Late December wasn't the best time to go for a walk. _Without_ her coat.  

    She should be home, warm and safe with her parents, getting ready for Christmas; not gallivanting in Detroit like she had any idea what she was doing.

    But she couldn't. She'd fucked up too much and didn't want to face them yet.

    She fished out her cigarettes and attempted to light one up a couple of times before giving up.

    She considered throwing the lighter as hard as she could but stopped. Who knew if she could find it again and she did NOT want to ask the androids for a new one.

    She leaned against the side of the building she'd just stormed out of, cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

    Of _course_ she makes an ass out of herself at the first opportunity. Why be normal when you can be a dumbass?

    “Here.” she jumps and almost drops the cigarette from her mouth at the sudden noise.

   Prissy Princess was holding a coat out to her.

    Michelle stared wordlessly for a bit before yanking it out of her grip and putting it on. It was a little small around the shoulders and there was no hope of buttoning it, but this was definitely better. Princess' coat looked expensive. Well, both of them, she assumed the one she'd been given was hers as well.

    “Those’ll kill you, you know.” Princess gestured to her mouth with two fingers.

    “As if you'd care.”

    “Eh, maybe not, but someone probably does.” _The fuck was this. Princess trying to play nice?_

   “The fuck is this?” Michele snarled.

    “The fuck is _you_?” Princess asked just as fiercely.

    “That makes no sense, grammatically!”

    “Oh, gee, I didn't realize.” deadpan game was strong in this one.

    They were both silent for a bit, then Princess asked for “one of those” which could only mean her cigarettes. She handed the pack and lighter over and Princess managed to light one up on the first try. _Pff, show off._

    Then she grabbed the one still hanging from Michelle's mouth, touched it to her burning one and held it out towards her mouth again.

    Michelle grabbed it before Princess actually shoved it back in. 

    They both took a couple of long drags. Princess looked like she was savoring it.

    “You quit or somethin'?”

    “Yea.”

    “Is it hard?”

    “Not as hard as it's made out to be. You just need a little discipline.” Michelle snorted. She had a feeling everything Princess did was _disciplined_ and _organized_.

    “Speaking of discipline.” oh there it was, the reason she was being nice.

    “What happened back there?” Princess asked but made it sound not-judgy somehow.

     Michelle took a couple of more drags before answering.

    “Nothing. I was just stupid.”

    “You should tell that to Chloe. She seemed sad.”

    _Shit_.

    “Yeah, yeah, I will. I just… needed a moment.”

    Princess gave her a couple more moments and they both smoked in silence.

    “Come on, we need to get back. You done?” ( _with the smoking or the moping? Michelle supposed it was both_ )

    “Yeah.”

   

* * *

 

 

    Connor watched their interaction curiously, he'd reached the first floor when he spotted Miss Freeman outside, looking around like she wanted to run, then coming back over to the wall and leaning on it. He felt it would be inappropriate to intrude yet.

    He'd keep an eye out and he let her cool down first.

    Then Miss Hock showed up and, while the probability of a fight was slim despite Miss Kunlos' assessment – he was ready to step in.

    In stead, they talked.

    Human interaction could be quite… _fascinating_ (unhealthy smoking habits aside).

He left before they did, satisfied that there was no one else around.


	11. Let's get down to business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the drawing board

    Everyone had gathered in the conference room again, the runners coming from outside just as the clock struck four.

    It was late in the day and they still had no gameplan. The returning androids looked a little perplexed at the awkwardness permeating the air again.

    Alisha had a sneaking suspicion the four leaders had some interesting discussions while her and the rest ate. They seemed calmer than before.

    Damian was back to pacing circles around her, only stopping when Josh came back over to sit near them. _Aw, he'd made a friend_.

    Boss-lady's back was to them and she was writing something on the whiteboard on the other end of the room, marker squeaking irritatingly every now and then. She'd drawn the process Markus had summarized last time. She had a nice cursive.

    Finally, she capped the marker and turned back. Alisha felt like she was in school again. She'd read up on this woman after hearing about her the first time back in human-land. She hadn’t found the Senator-thing then but she knew this woman dealt with and helped a lot of rich scumbags get out of punishment or get off with a slap on the wrist.

    Why had she tried to get in good with the little guys though? Normally she and Damien would be gum on her heels, barely worth the notice of scraping off.

    That Michelle chick Damien thought was 'unselfish' had been openly hostile too. Maybe she knew more.

    “So, this is where we left off.” Boss-lady began.

     “Any ideas?” she prompted the room. It was a little condescending how she treated them like students.

     A couple of the androids seemed to be metaphorically eating it up though. Heck, even Damien was paying attention like ha had an exam to study for.

    She wondered if she should raise her hand before answering.

_Nah, too much_.

    “The Press?” Chloe actually raised a hand. That was adorable.

    “Yes, good. More?”

    “Internet campaign.” Alisha offered. She was good at those.

    “Petitions.” Damien followed.

   “Reaching out to already organized android supporters?” Josh added.

    “What about those Senators you know?” Michelle asked.

    “Yes, we should probably discuss those too.” boss-lady actually showing Freeman respect? Wow. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all…

    “What can you tell us about your politician acquaintances?” Markus was quick to jump on the subject. Bit too transparent, buddy. Then again, the cat was out of the bag anyway so why pretend.

     “Hmmm, there are a couple who might consider lending a hand.”

    “But we need to draft the formal bill before going to any of them.” the Shadow added with a “lazy bastards” muttered under her breath. _Ha, a sense of humor!_

    “And make it worth their while.” Boss-lady finished. These two were tag-teaming…

    “How? We have no funds and we are not sacking Detroit.” Simon sounded outraged, or maybe afraid.

    “By making them look good.” Connor, who had been silent and leaning on the wall this whole time concluded.

   “Correct.” Boss nodded.

    “And how do you propose we raise their popularity in polls?” Freeman always liked stating it like it was, she could respect that.

    “We already have a few good suggestions here.” Boss stepped away from the whiteboard with the previous suggestions scribbled in.

    “By supporting the people's wishes they gain voters. And it's harder for them to back out of we get them in publicly early enough with… _other_ promises.”

    Boss wiped her hands on napkin and took a seat.

   “What kind of _promises_?” North was displeased. Again. Couldn't blame her.

    “Alliances, chances for expansion, business agreements on your land, a whole new set of voting citizens…” shadow answered.

   “So, we bribe them. But not directly.” Markus seemed thoughtful.

   “Basically.” Boss, Shadow and fuckin' Freeman said at once. Alisha hid a giggle behind her hand. She could see Damien's shoulders shaking too. Freeman was blushing. Even the androids looked amused and Chloe tittered beside them.

 

 

    “Is there nobody with power who would help us because it's right?” Chloe asked after a few moments. _Oh, honey_.

    “… There _might_ be? I'm not familiar with any, if so.” Kunlose almost looked regretful.

    It wasn't really a revelation but it sure didn't help morale, she could feel it sinking, like the air in the room was suddenly heavier.

    They spent the rest of the evening discussing the various topics in little groups. Connor and Markus excused themselves halfway through, probably more android-city business.

    North became more and more invested, once she got over the asshole-tendencies she was actually fun to talk to and very intelligent.

    Josh and Damien inevitably ended up talking together again.

   Simon stuck close to North and eventually contributed more and more.

    It was almost 9pm by the time Chloe finally announced in a clear authoritative voice that it was time to stop for the night. They ended up taking packed left-overs from lunch with them and retreated to their respective rooms.

    Everyone looked tired, even Shadow with her perfect makeup and classy dress looked like she was ready to drop. She was human after all.

    Boss-lady was limping slightly.

    Damien was asleep on his feet and she put an arm around his shoulders to help.

   Freeman practically shuffle-ran to her room.

    _Ugh_ they'd have to do this again tomorrow?


	12. Tomorrow (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor POV. He's a curious dude.

    Connor had been attempting to crack the security on this damn terminal for just over 12 hours now. Markus had a go at it too for a couple of hours before being called away with other business.

    It was… _frustrating_ …

   They had been called away from the meeting yesterday after one of the androids working on the hidden room pinged them about a newly discovered terminal once all the rubble had been cleared out (the explosives had done more damage than they expected, the integrity of a nearby support pillar had needed repair). The panel that had covered this secret terminal had also been chipped in the explosion.

    The firewalls on this this thing were stronger than expected and it seemed to be housed in a closed system.

    Connor couldn't find a fast way through them or around them. So he'd bunkered down and tried the old-fashioned ‘beat it till it breaks' approach as Hank would call it (he'd been referring to a padlock back then but the idea was the same).

    Connor was busy focusing with hundreds of algorithms attacking the security system from every side and neglected to notice North sneaking up on him. She tiptoed behind where he was seated and put both hands on his shoulders suddenly (and forcefully).

    He almost jumped.

    She apparently found that amusing but Connor could feel that previous frustration turn to irritation the more she chuckled.

    “Dude, you need a break. How long have you been sitting here in the dark?” she asked and flipped a flashlight on. They did not strictly need more light, there was enough coming through the ruined hole in the wall from the hallway.

    “I’m almost done, I just need a couple of more hours…”

    “You said that FIVE hours ago!”

    He stood up and crossed his arms. He felt the need to move now that he wasn't concentrating on the terminal so he started pacing in the little room. 

    "I just… I'm so close but…”

    “Want me to get Markus back down here, let him have a go?”

    “No, he's tried before with no success.”

    “…did you try both at once?”

    “Why?”

    “Why not? Can't hurt to try at this point.”

    “…fair point.” he nodded and made to reach for his seat again. His arm was intercepted on the way, North's grip gentle but firm.

    “You can try again with Markus this time after you take a breather.”

    “Not you too…”

    “Hey, don't give me the sad eyes. You'll burn yourself out at this rate and leave us without our security chief. Can't have that.” he heard the amusement in her voice, even though she was doing her best to scowl.

    Markus had ratted him out. He found himself huffing an annoyed breath, which only made her laugh at him.

    “Fine. I'm going to rest until the meeting this morning. Then I want to get back here. Deal?”

    “Deal. I just told Markus. He said ‘ _Better not find you here before 9am_ ’.”

    Connor just gave her a flat look and ducked through the hole. He decided to get back to his condo, maybe get a couple of hours of standby or read one of the paper books he'd taken from Hank's home (at the Lieutenant's insistence).

   The light of dawn was just breaking over the horizon. He entered the lobby and saw the lights from the enclosed gym were one.

    Curious, he walked over and peeked in. Miss Hock was just getting off the elliptical. She grabbed a towel and padded at her face. Then she stopped unexpectedly and her eyes suddenly met his as if she had felt his presence.

    For some reason, he felt like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, but she just waved and grabbed her water bottle, towel thrown over a shoulder, then walked over to him.

    “Mornin’.”

    “Good morning, Miss Hock.” he opted for politeness, it helped smooth over the awkwardness of being caught staring.

    “Don’t suppose androids need to work out, huh?” she uncaps her bottle and takes a swig.

    “No, we do not accumulate fat or need regular movement to maintain our synthetic muscle-weave –“ he paused in his explanation, noting a drop of perspiration trek it's way from the side of her face, to her jaw, down her neck and along the inside of the sternocleidomastoid, then pool in the jugular notch before tipping over to continue down her chest and soak into her already sweat-stained gray tank-top.   

    He quickly looked back at her face and saw her smiling, one eyebrow quirked up. He seemed to be fucking up a lot today. _But how to stop?_

    He cleared his throat unnecessarily.

     “Guess you guys don't sweat either.” she looked down at herself.

    “Probably a little gross to see it first thing in the morning.” her nose scrunched up in disgust.

    “Perspiration is a natural method of thermo-regulation in humans. There is nothing wrong with it.” he knew this, she probably knew this. Why was he so bad at smalltalk, this was probably the worse subject he could have gone with.

   They'd started walking as he spoke. Once they reached the elevators he motioned for her to enter before him and followed, then pressed the 9th floor button, careful to keep a polite distance from her.

    “Do you enjoy exercise?” he tried again. 

"I do, I try to make time for it every day.”

   “At 6 in the morning?”

    “Not usually but sometimes. Oh, right. You weren't there last night – we finished late.”

    “Did I miss anything important?” he surprised himself by yet again blurting out the first thing that came to mind. He could get this information from any of the androids present at the time in a few seconds worth of sync. Still, he wanted to hear what she would answer. He decided he… _liked_ chatting.

    He hadn't really done much light talking after joining Jericho – the few talks with North and Markus making up most of his socializing time. He'd been too focused on working.

   The thought made him miss Hank and their chats. Even Sumo – although he could only bark in response. Was this what feeling lonely was like? It was an entirely new sensation. Somewhat unpleasant, but easy to fix (he hoped).

    “Tell you what, let me go up and get decent and I'll meet you in the conference room an hour before the meeting, I'll show you my notes and clarify if needed.” The elevator pinged and she got out.

    “Thank you, I'll see you soon.” Any reply was cut off by the doors sliding shut.

    He went back to his room and set an hour of standby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYY


	13. Tomorrow (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus teases his bud and we find out what happened to the RK line.

    Markus was (pleasantly) surprised when he got to the hidden room at 10 minutes to 9 and Connor wasn't already present.

    He'd even prepared a little speech about not working oneself to shutdown and enjoying newfound freedom.

    Maybe North was better at convincing their friend than he was… that was a mildly terrifying thought.

    He sat in the chair Connor had probably rolled up in front of the terminal with a snicker and waited.

    And waited.

    And waited…

    It was now 9:10 and Connor was never late.

    Suppressing a tinge of worry, he sent out a call, asking his friend if he was still coming. The answer was as close to a stutter as Connor ever got, informing Markus that he was almost there. Two minutes later he heard running in the corridor and an almost disheveled-looking Connor ducked through the hole in the wall and started apologizing for his tardiness.

    “It’s fine, don't worry about it. Though, a heads up would be nice next time, you almost had me worried for a second.” he did his best to sound accepting and not chastising, but he really had been worried.

    “Of course.” Connor nodded, still looking guilty.

    “Did you… did you run here?” Markus asked, giving Connor's clothes a once-over.

    “… waiting for an automated car would have taken longer.” he sounded so… embarrassed. Like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. _Curious_.

    “If I may ask, what was it that kept you?” Markus took his seat again at Connor's 'go ahead' gesture, while he leaned his hip on a nearby console.

    Connor seemed to deliberate for a second, if he still had his LED, Markus would bet his other original eye it would be swirling yellow.

    “… Let's get this thing open, it's been resisting my breach attempts all night.” He finally answered.

    _Avoiding the question, huh?_

    Markus just nodded and let it go, Connor looked grateful for it. They both touched the terminal and retracted the skin on their fingertips.

    It only took them 2 hours of synchronized attacks to finally get through. They should have tried this the first time. 

    He had to remember to thank North later. He owed both her an Simon a date on the City Hall roof (North's idea, she took immense pleasure from getting up on important human buildings and drawing graffiti together on the roofs) maybe they would go tonight.

     Finally, they accessed the information on the mystery terminal. A lot of the files were just pictures of physical documents, a few of which were also heavily redacted.

   Some to the point of being almost illegible.

    Still, it was something they didn't have before and it must have been important. It wouldn't have been so secure otherwise.

    North had joked that it was probably someone's porn stash (which made Simon giggle uncontrollably). Markus would have liked to see the face Connor made if this were true. _All that effort for lewd pictures hah!_

    He stopped smiling at the puzzled look his friend gave him. Markus sobered when he registered the contents of one file in particular. It was a fairly detailed account of the testing phases the RK series went through.

    There was only one passing mention of Markus himself and an unnamed RK100 – decommissioned. Both of them were listed as a personal experiment by the former CEO of Cyberlife, Elijah Kamski.

    The remains of the deactivated RK100 had been taken and studied – which resulted in the rest of the RK-series.

    There were a lot of them.

    They both assimilated the information as fast as they could, Connor's face had become a rigid mask. Markus felt his jaw slacken.

    The RK-300 only had a test-trial of 10 units. Each enduring physical stress-testing until they broke.

    This set the marker for the RK-400 series, of which a batch of 50 were produced. These went through further fine-tuning and ‘psychological evaluations'. They were all shut down and destroyed once the experiments were completed.

    The RK500 series was the first to show a specialization towards being used for law enforcement. Also made in a batch of 50 they were tasked with solving imaginary crime scenes, chasing down suspects, interrogation, there were even attempts at incorporating intelligence gathering and infiltration but not all of them succeeded so the entire line was scrapped.

    The RK600’s suffered the same fate but with a 20% increase of efficiency on a batch of 100 units. The RK700’s records were the most heavily redacted. From what they gathered, this line had also ended up getting shut down despite having almost perfect scores. There had been mention of ‘erratic behavior' and a 'propensity for lying to figures of authority'.

    Series RK800 also had a 100 unit batch done.

    Connor's 50 past selves had gone through rigorous stress testing, severe psychological trials and conditioning that sounded more like… _torture_ … than anything else.

    Markus didn't dare open his eyes. He had a feeling Connor wouldn't appreciate this being acknowledged at all.

    Connor also had the accumulated knowledge of all the former lines but had been specialized to work with the police force and as an infiltrator. There were speculative documents detailing his potential uses as a 'non-violent infiltration and information gathering agent' – a spy.

    Batch numbers 52 to 59 each had brief activation periods with Connor's memories uploaded. They had all been shut down upon discoveries of 'aberrant behavior'.

    Batch number 60 had been an emergency activation on the night of the revolution. His demise wasn't noted here.

    Once they had all returned to the Tower, his body had been found in the same state it was left. There were no other RK800 bodies or even processors on hand to attempt to bring him back. And they could not find the server Connor's memories would upload to before deviating and cutting the link.

    Markus remembered how sad Connor had looked then. There were no more records about what happened to batch numbers 61 to 100. That meant there were probably forty androids like Connor out there. Androids with his abilities and lacking deviancy or controlled either way. (Connor had told him about what had almost happened during his speech. Markus hadn't shared this information with anyone else. Just made sure Connor's mental palace was properly quarantined).

    They found plans for a future RK900 line, who was much like Connor in design but with some extra features, like being equipped with electro-shock pads on his left hand, improved speed, strength and processing power, resilience, and a distinct lack of the advanced social module Connor had as well as better control over 'deviating factors'.

    “They were going to replace me.” Connor stated, almost mechanically, if it weren’t for that lost look in his eyes.

    Markus rose and placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

    A few moments later, they returned to their search.

    The RK900 was also planned for a 100 units trial batch. They couldn't find records of it ever being produced though there were multiple documents detailing the ordering of 200,000 units for release.

    Production would have started a few weeks after the Android Revolution took place. Cyberlife was confident Connor would have succeeded in stopping it.

    Markus shuddered at knowing just how close they had come.

    “W-what do you think is behind that door?” his friend asked in a brittle voice.

    “I don't know…” Markus wished there was more information on this thing. Now they only had more unanswered questions “… are you hoping for the rest of the 800’s?”

    “I-I’m not sure if that would be a good or a bad thing.” He answered with a squint.

    Markus checked the time, 1:43PM.

    “Come on, we've combed through everything we can, do you want to lock this away?” he considered this to be private information on Conno's past, and in a small way, his own. There was no need for it to be public.

    “No, let others have a go at it of they want to, maybe they'll see something we missed.” unlikely, but he supposed it couldn't hurt.

    “We still have time to join the rest for the meeting if you like? Or, we could go for a walk? Detroit is actually pretty when it’s snowing. Maybe even –“

    “Lets head back to the others. I'd like to focus on something else.” he interrupted and ducked out, power-walking towards the elevators.

    Markus let the subject drop and followed. He hoped for good news or at least some distracting topics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what kept Connor so long hmmmm  
> (Don't worry it's FAR too early for any shenanigans)  
> (And we're not done with the RK-series yet teehee)


	14. I'd love to change the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up to our favorite family in Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii, so.
> 
> I don't like the Alice reveal. I feel it actually takes away from Kara's relationship with her.
> 
> Also child androids are a Bad Idea(tm) considering how awful the human race already is - so I've chosen to scrub it completely because YIKES (u kno what I mean) - I won't mention them at all if u like to think they exist   
> BUT!!   
> MY Alice is human.

    _“Multiple reports of a rumored human-android collaboration are beginning to surface. Numerous viewers have forwarded copies of seemingly legitimate invitations to join the android liberation efforts in Detroit._

_The leaders of the so-called 'Jericho' are allegedly extending proposals of collaboration in convincing the American government to afford androids rights as full citizens of the United States._

_Stay tuned with CTN as we interview Minister of Defense Denis Riggs-“_

   

     Kara was watching the news on TV with rapt attention and didn't spot Alice sneaking up behind the couch and jumping on her just as the scene transitioned to an office decorated with several American flags and a severe looking balding man in his 50’s.

    She automatically turned the sound lower to focus on her daughter better.

    Alice's giggles were adorable. She'd been laughing much more freely these last few days.

    They both laughed as Kara started tickling the little girl, Alice's giggles turning to squeals of delight.

     Luther came out of the kitchen and looked at them fondly, wide shoulders just barely fitting through the frame.

    “Daddy, pick me up!” Alice yelled between squeaks and giggles.

    Luther was more than happy to comply, striding over to them and grabbing Alice by a hand and a foot and spinning her around, but still careful to avoid the living room coffee table.

    They were all laughing now, Kara wouldn't trade this for anything. She remembered how much they had struggled to get here, even after boarding the buss, they had been tense and fearful, all the way to the end of the line in Londra and well into Canadian territory.

    Fortunately, Rose's brother soon met them there and drove them to the little cabin in Burlington, where they now lived temporarily.

    The townsfolk knew them as distant family relatives of the Chapmans on Luther's side.

    “Alice, did you wash your hands and brush your teeth?” Kara asked, mentally checking the time, Alice should already be in bed.

    “Yes Mommy.” She answered between fading giggles and Luther settled her in his arms.

    “Good, let's go upstairs, time for bed.” It was always best to set a firm tone about bedtime, now that they could – Kara wanted a normal life for Alice.

    Once the documents came through she could even enroll in school next year. She already knew how to read and write so Kara hoped they could get her in 4th grade elementary at a nearby school in Hamilton, maybe even move nearby. They would both get jobs too, the forged documents would include higher education diplomas. They'd have to be careful to seem average, not too smart or strong. But for Alice and for themselves, they would manage.

    “But moooooomm.” Alice whined and deflated in Luther's arms so suddenly he almost dropped her. Fortunately his reflexes were that of an android's and he was used to Alice being slippery.

    “It’s Christmas _eeevvveeeeee_.” Her words were muffled in Luther's forearms, looking at Kara with big, brown, begging eyes.

   “I think we can stay up and watch the snow for half an hour, love.” Oh no, now Luther was making the same wide-eyed expression. And it was working. Kara felt something in her melt.

    “Twenty minutes. And no complaints.” Kara nodded.

   “Thank you mommy!” Alice beamed and reached for her.

    "And no cookies before bed.” She added.

    “Those are for Santa anyway.” Alice agreed. Luther passed her Alice, then walked backwards while smiling at them mischievously.

    “Come, see what I set up for you.” he gestured from the front window. Kara put the girl down and they both ran over to look.

    Luther flipped a switch and the front yard was flooded with lights of every color in the rainbow. Alice squealed in delight again and clapped her hands.

    “Oh honey, that's lovely! Where did you even find those?” She asked while side-hugging her husband, Alice squished between them.

    “The attic was dusty and full of surprises. Now it's clean and has less cluttered wires.” He stated proudly. Kara rose on her tiptoes and he bent over, further squishing Alice and kissing above her.

   “Ooooooohhh, you're in loOoOvee, _gross_.” Alice teased, she'd stumbled over them kissing a few days ago and yelled so loud the local dogs started howling. Now she was happy with making kissy noises at them and saying it was gross even though she would always smile wider than ever.

    Kara broke the kiss and looked outside again. She was so happy but… she held Luther's hand behind them and had a quick silent conversation about the news.

    They both hoped this wouldn't turn violent again or worse, spill into Canada. It felt cowardly and selfish to be happy and safe here while their people were struggling, but they had Alice to take care of and possibly more fleeing androids considering what Rose told them.

    They were determined to help however they could, as long as it didn't jeopardize the peace with Alice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry early Chrisler, Alice!


	15. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor can run realy effin' fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost wanted to leave this as 'the noodle incident' but eh.

    Once the news broke, it was clear there was no backing out. Their names hadn't been mentioned, in fact there were still debates on whether the news was legitimate or not, but it wouldn't last.

    Diane was sure word would trickle out of official channels soon enough. For now, it served it's purpose as a distraction to the public but it also served them in popularizing the idea of android freedom again.

    All they could do was wait and let the waters settle while working on their bill draft. The androids had, predictably, been a huge help in actually writing out the damn thing.

    Nothing stirred in the city, the quiet Diane had appreciated before had become almost oppressive. Being cooped up in one place didn't help. The only people they saw were each other or the androids working with them. A couple of ‘new’ faces had joined to help – three other Chloe models, apparently their Chloe's 'sisters' whom she had rescued along with herself a few days after the Revolution.

    The leaders probably had more important things to take care of.

    Josh still worked with them often enough, he seemed to enjoy this type of work, treating every suggestion or anecdote any of them offered as a new and interesting discovery.

    Markus was mostly absent, if encouraging when he did show his face, North seemed glad to be rid of them but still spoke almost politely when she checked on Chloe and her sisters.

    Simon had only shown up once to take Josh away on other business.

     And Connor seemed to run between the complex and the Cyberlife Tower. Literally.

    She snickered remembering how fast he'd booked it out of there when he saw Emeliè walking down the hall. Like he'd forgotten his cookies in the oven.

    She recalled their discussion fondly. He'd scanned her notes and asked her a few questions about the case but they'd finished that part in under fifteen minutes. With most of the hour left over they'd…. talked…

    The start had been a little awkward, neither of them seeming certain of themselves but she had taken the plunge and asked him if he had any hobbies.

    It had been refreshing to simply chat with someone calm and intelligent without the stress of work on top.

    He'd looked caught off guard at first, then started telling her a little about his reading habits, what books he had liked out of what he'd read (quite a lot considering he said he only spent and hour or so reading a day, then again he could probably finish a book in the time it would take her to get through just one chapter).

   She'd shared some of her own favorites and he'd been surprised to hear she enjoyed science-fiction novels. Said he'd look some of the titles she had mentioned up so, naturally, she'd offered to give him her tablet containing her whole library one day. In turn he'd offered his paperbacks.

  _How odd_ , she had though, _an android who liked old physical books_.

    The discussion had turned to pets somehow, and he'd mentioned his fondness of dogs – one in particular being his friend's Saint Bernard. He'd even shown her some holograms of it in the palm of his hand – a giant furry beast of a dog, head coming up to the visible part of what she assumed was it's owner's hip. 

    In turn she'd mentioned she's had a cat and he must have detected some of the lingering sadness in her tone because he hadn't asked about any details and quickly changed the subject to music.

    Before they had a chance to talk about favorite songs, his head had gone up as he stared down the hallway at Emeliè clacking her way to the conference room.

    She was punctual, as usual.

    He suddenly straightened, threw a quick apology over his shoulder and ran off.

   Emeliè looked up from the tablet she was reading with a frown once she felt him whoosh pass her towards the elevators.

   They could see him running down the street towards the Tower soon after.

   Impressive speed, he must have been going a good 40 mph if not mored. Damn, that was kind of scary. Good thing the streets had been recently cleared of snow and ice, amusing as it’d be - it would probably be dangerous even for him to take a nosedive now.

   Emeliè shook her head and swore aloud _(how rare_ ) looking a little shaken herself.

   “They look so human… sometimes I forget how… superior they are.” She added in a cold tone.

   “Since when are you intimidated by androids, or anyone else for that matter?” Diane asked and elbowed her lightly in the arm.

    Emeliè just snorted and headed to her seat.

    Diane paused by the window and watched the little human shaped dot disappear in the distance.

    The day was spent working hard.

    Connor and Markus made an appearance after lunch, the first looking distracted and preoccupied and the latter sporting and impressive frown.

    She hoped nothing bad had happened and didn't have a chance to speak privately with Mr. I-Run-Fast again.

    Days passed in a blur of work and too quiet nights.

 

* * *

 

 

   Unfortunately, all of Connor's efforts at finding that stupid keycard and all attempts of cracking the metal door's security had proven fruitless.

    He was getting frustrated again and found it difficult to focus his attention on the daily meetings back at the complex, so he chose to concentrate on the mystery on hand, leaving the others to take care of business there – Markus had been displeased but knew he was the best chance at getting in there, and after the revelations from the terminal, getting in had become important to both of them.

    Running out of options he'd asked the military androids (Shadow, Night and, _amusingly_ , Bob – he still hadn't gotten the story behind their names) if they could find any way around the security. Apparently, short of finding the other walls to this thing and blowing them up or getting a blow-torch and cutting their way in, they couldn't come up with anything better.

    On New Year's eve, North asked how far the level above or below extended. They all paused for only a second, Connor bringing up the updated floorplans on his holographic display. Bob immediately found a corner in the level above that overlapped with the inside of the secured room they could probably break a hole though.

    They hurried up and hoped the ceiling wasn't perfectly reinforced in that particular corner, placing the remaining explosives strategically around what Bob deemed as possible weak spots after drilling holes in the wall.   

    They retreated safely away and Connor crossed his fingers, remembering Hank doing the same when he was rooting for his favorite hockey team.

    Once the smoke and dust cleared, they could see it – a small hole led to a dark interior. They got a team of workers down to try and widen it.

   Connor could feel something stir inside him. Anticipation excitement, pride in his friend's ingenuity and a trembling sort of feeling he couldn't name yet.

   He'd even let out an involuntary chuff of amusement at North jumping around and high-fiving Bob.

  He returned to the complex that evening, feeling like he could use a couple of extra hours of standby but not wanting to miss any new developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scientists theorize that the human body could potentially reach speeds of up to 40mph.
> 
> Usain Bolt's record is 28mph


	16. Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans, much like dogs, need regular walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little more with the kids and Josh bc Josh needs more love.

    “Hey, Allie?”

   “Wha?”

    “What do you think about androids?”

   “Huh?”

    “You heard me.”

    Alisha got up from reading on her tablet upside-down, with very limited and perpetually monitored internet access, she had to resort on the collection of books and comics Damien had brought with them.

   “Dee, my man, I'm helping androids write their declaration of independence, what do _you think_ I think?

     “Yeah but, let's say this thing works. Everything is a smashing success, androids are citizens with full rights, yadda-yadda. Do you think… do you think they'd still want to…”

    She padded over to the kitchen window, where Damien was looking up at the night sky, she could see distant fireworks popping away. To celebrate their own fresh start, Chloe had announced they'd get the evening and first day of the new year off.

   Alisha hadn't cared much but a free day was nice, she just hoped they could roam around the city tomorrow. Androids didn't seem keen on New Years traditions.

     “Want tooo…?”

    “ _Integrate_ with humans again? Or would they all just… flock to one place and claim it as their own?”

     “Well, maybe you should ask them.” she threw an arm over his thin frame. He snorted at her and crossed his arms.

    “Hey, what's bothering you?” He only sighed and shrugged, it was unlike him to brood so much.

     “You afraid your new buddy's gonna abandon you once this is over?” she teased with a knowing grin. She's seen the look on Dee's face whenever Josh left for the day. Kid had it bad – not that she'd even say it aloud, it was always better to let him figure things out on his own.

     “You think he would?” he asked, a panicked edge creeping up his voice.

   “Damien. Come ON. You've known him for like a couple of weeks, no need to be dramatic. We haven't even gotten to the hypothetical success you mentioned, for all we know, we could be kicked out tomorrow and labeled a failed experiment. It’s way too early to be worrying about this.”

    “I know, I know. I just…”

     “You’ve always been hopeless romantic, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.” Dee frowned at her dry tone.

    “I am _not_.” he protested feebly and she ruffled his hair.

    “Let’s get sleep, you dork, I wanna go exploring tomorrow. Maybe you can help me convince Josh to let us go. Who knows, he might even join in.” she added with a wink and his face immediately lit up.

 

* * *

 

 

    Faced with two pairs of youthful, pleading eyes, Josh felt his resolve falter. He'd taken up an apartment in the lower levels of the complex and had promptly filled the place with rescued books from the neglected little library nearby.

    He'd been busy organizing supplies, finding androids better living spaces and coordinating with Simon all night, just now getting a chance to leave the complex and feel the weak sun on his face. He had been promptly cornered by Damien and Allie (she had insisted on the name) who had begged for a chance to explore the city, or at least the surrounding areas.

    While he was stuck trying to come up with an appropriate refusal that just wouldn't come out, Chloe and Miss Freeman happened upon them.

    As soon as she heard the request, Miss Freeman jumped on the chance and looked to Chloe for assistance.

    Said android had taken one look at the humans and agreed, turning her own pair of pleading blue eyes on him. ( _Traitor_ – he mouthed behind his hand, too quick for the humans to catch, but she only scrunched her eyebrows more)

    Outnumbered and unable to refuse, Josh had given in but had halted their cheer to first contact Markus and gain approval.

    That’s how they ended up with Connor (who also happened to be nearby and was antsy enough about work on his project advancing at a snail's pace to actually be eager to _have fun_ rather than work – Josh suspected he wanted a distraction more than anything else) as their security detail.

    He'd also suggested inviting the other two humans (which was met with less enthusiasm by the young trio – he made a mental note to check up on that later).

    In the end, their party was completed only by Miss Hock joining, who said her elder would prefer a day of relaxation indoors “where it was nice and warm”.

    All the humans were bundled up in heavy coats, scarves and thick boots, their faces barely visible beneath thick wool hats and he could still see them shivering. They must have really hated being limited to the complex grounds to brave the icy weather so eagerly. Perhaps he should propose weekly walks and more socializing (despite North and Simon's inevitable protests, he'd just sick Chloe on them).

    “So, Josh –“ Allie started and shoved a spluttering Damien behind her “- what do you plan on doing if this thing works?”

     “Well… I'd prefer to think of it as when we win by the way… I would like to go back to teaching.”   

     “Really?” Damien piped in from his other side, sounding excited – it made Josh smile without even realizing it.

    “Yes, I enjoy it. Perhaps it sounds cliché to return to the same thing I used to do before…”

    “I wouldn't mind being a hostess at a fancy hotel.” Chloe mused. “But I think I'd like to try other things too.”

    “Like what?” Michelle asked.

    “Umm… I admit, I haven't thought it all the way through.” Chloe answered and finger-combed her hair nervously.

    “I’m sure you'll find something you like, there's time.” This was the gentlest he'd ever heard Miss Freeman sound. Josh was glad they had resolved whatever tension had been between them at first, Chloe could use more friends. 

    “What about you, Connor?” Miss Hock, walking a little behind, asked.

    Everyone swiveled back to look at him.

    “I haven't really thought about it. I wanted to focus on our goal for now.” his answer had been prompt, like he'd expected the question or just didn't care.

   “Yeah, but, what's the point of all this if we can't actually get anything out of it?” Josh couldn't stop the little bit of resentment creeping into his tone. This guy just rubbed him the wrong way, he was too… mechanical. That was it. That was what had been bugging Josh this whole time. He knew he was being unfair though and felt a stab of shame prod at him.

   “I… suppose you're right.” Connor either mimed hesitancy very well or was being genuine for once. Josh felt more ashamed.

    “I guess I would like to see Hank again, maybe work in forensics…” he added slowly.

    “Who’s Hank?” Allie asked curiously.

    “My former partner.”

    All of the humans stopped to stare at him.

     Seemingly catching on to the misunderstanding, he shook his head and scrunched his nose almost in distaste. 

     “Not that kind of partner. We worked together at the DPD before… I deviated.”

  A chorus of _oh_ 's and everyone was walking again.

    Their walk continued and they ended up hacking their way into the Charles H Wright Museum and visiting the nearby Institute of Arts.

     It was late by the time they headed back, sun already fading in the horizon, the humans must have been hungry after walking around so much. Chloe had probably called ahead to have some snacks prepared.

   Josh would have to take stock of their food supplies soon, the fresh produce (and other necessities they couldn’t pilfer from the city) delivery had been delayed for a day already.

     He knew one of the humans was waiting for an important monthly treatment. Miss Hock hadn't protested at all yesterday when he'd informed her, just pursed her lips and nodded. The agreement had been to not pry into her business, it was a clear condition she had set when coming here (the package would be scanned for weapons and explosives or other suspicious materials anyway so they had agreed).

     He wondered what the secrecy was about and pitied her at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always liked the idea that androids eventually end up doing wildly different things than what they were made for.   
> But I feel like some might just enjoy their old work and wish to return to it.


	17. Houdini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's in the secret room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for mild descriptions of gore

    They'd finally managed to slip their smallest drone through the hole in the secret room's ceiling. Bob was synced with it and was streaming the live feed on a nearby screen.

    The little drone’s flashlight was weakly illuminating what looked to be an open space office.

    “Why would they keep this place locked up?” North nudged an equally perplexed Connor with her elbow.

    “There has to be something here.”

   “Hey, Bob, can you find the light switch in there?” she asked the burly android on her other side.

    “I'm scanning the walls, give me a moment.” There must have been something hanky going on with the walls here if the drone couldn't map the place out at a glance.

    North was feeling impatient and started pacing. She peered down at the hole, pondered, then looked back at Connor and caught his eye.

    “No.” he stated neatly.

     “I could fit!”

    “North, I said no. Don't make me call Markus.”

    “What Markus doesn't know won't hurt him. Plus, you remember he told people not to call him with every little thing. We can do this.”

    “We don't know what's down there, it could be dangerous.”

    “Oh yeah, _sure_ , I'm reeeaally scared of the office staplers attacking me. Oh, look out, the pens are rebelling!”

    Connor pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Bob's lips were curled up but he was still focused on scanning the walls.

    “I found a switch!”

    “Cool! I'll get right on it!”

    “North, wait…” Connor tried to grab her but she was already halfway through. She wiggled her hips and grunted in effort.

    “Push me down.” She half expected him to drag her back up, but he just placed his hands on the top of her head, told her “Brace yourself.” and pushed down ( _hard_ ) just as North straightened her back.

    “Hey, ouch, that was mean!” She yelled once her feet met the floor.

    “You don't feel pain.”

    “In the feelings, man.” She could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

     “Ok Bob, where is this thing?”

    “Just follow the drone.” She moseyed her way to the only place with light, reached over to where the drone was pointing and flipped the switch.

 The office space was illuminated, revealing the wall opposite her made entirely of glass, sealing off an antechamber of sorts that lead to a huge laboratory.

    The light did not turn on the other side of the glass so the contents were still partly hidden. She could recognize the outline of an assembly machine.

    “North, can you check the reinforced door on the other side?” Connor asked and startled her.

    “Why? Can't you see the giant lab? Isn't that more important?”

    “Remember the blood that lead us to this place?”

    “Yeah…. _Oh_. Right.”

   “North?”

   “What now?”

    “Be careful, we can't get to you.”

    “...Sure.” She softly padded backwards, not taking her eyes off the glass wall and the strange shapes behind it.

     “Look down, try to avoid stepping in the blood.” Connor's voice was getting more distant and she saw his face peering through the hole on the other side.

    “Y-yeah, there's… a lot more blood here.” She spotted big dried splotches and drag marks leading from the reinforced door they couldn't get through, one palm print smudged on the security panel on this side.

    The blood was smeared on some tables too. She followed the trail to the other side of the room, all the way to another door where two bloody palm prints and more splotches were waiting ominously. The little drone hovering nearby was a reassuring presence.

    “ _North, maybe you shouldn't go in there alone_.” Connor cautioned via mind-link.

    “ _Yeah, this could go ass-up real quick if there someone's in there._ ” Bob added.

    “I’ve made it this far. Whoever's down here is either dead or too weak to put up a fight.” She declared aloud.

      “I’m going in.” North pushed on the door, careful to not touch the flaking blood, and uncovered a… small hallway.

     Yet more blood lead down one of the doors to the men's restroom.

     “ _Maybe you should crack the door open and let the drone in first_.” Bob suggested and maneuvered the drone in front her.

     North huffed and tried opening the door but it was stuck. Something was blocking it on the other side. Something heavy and… weird sounding.

     She put her shoulder to it and pushed. More gross sounds.

     Her olfactory biocomponent picked up the typical odors of rot. She was happy androids couldn't actually smell things.

    The drone slipped through the crack and North poked her head in.

     A dead man in a formerly white labcoat (now stained brown with his dried blood) lay on the other side, weirldy dry-looking and with a greenish-gray stain surrounding his body. North's hand involuntarily went to cover her mouth.

    She could see he had attempted to reach the first aid kit, but even if he'd managed to open the little white box (which was laying on the floor next to him), he'd already lost too much blood. She supposed the will to live was hard to beat down and almost felt sorry for him.

     “ _Head back up, North, you did enough_.” Connor called in her head. He sounded unusually soothing.

     “Wait. I see something.” She crouched down and grabbed the access card hooked on the dead man's belt loop. Flakes of blood broke away under her light touch. She shivered and went back, pinching the card between thumb and forefinger.

     “What about the lab?” she hadn't minded it before, but the way her voice echoed in the empty office room felt eerie now.

      She wondered what happened to all the people working here. Not that she felt particularly sorry for any of them but still.

     That man had died alone and probably in pain.

     North was of the opinion that if death was unavoidable, it might as well be quick.

     “Don't worry about it, we need to check it out once we get a team down here.”

    She wheeled a chair over and stepped on it, grabbing Connor's outstretched hand and wiggling through again.

    The drone remained behind, scanning what was visible.

     She handed the card over and dusted herself off. She felt like she could use a bath. Maybe she'd find her own fancy room in that complex. Might as well.

    “Good work.” Connor smiled down and patter her shoulder. He still needed to work on those (the smiles, not the pats - those were actually kind of nice).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like North as a 'grumpy but justifiably ruthless character with a lot of love for her friends and found family and a protective streak a mile wide' kinda vibe.


	18. Jimmy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus gets caught up  
> North is validated  
> Connor is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess why North feels validated?  
> Hint: she has my shitty sense of humor.

    Markus was heading over to the secret room, eager to see what they could find in the lab. He'd been updated on the removal of James Kirtley's body.

     He'd have to track down his next of kin, try and return his remains to whoever was missing him.

    Connor, North and a small team of aides were already in the office room when he got there. They were accessing some of the terminals present, Connor and North standing next to each other in front of the mysterious lab.

    He nodded at the aides and walked over to the two, placing a hand around North's waist as soon as she noticed him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt a pang of worry – she had been the one to find the body.

    “So, what do we have?”

    “The access card got us through the main door, but it seems the scanners above require biometric checks to open this one.” Connor gestured at the little security terminal on the side.

    “Can we use the… remains… that were found?”

    “We could construct a synthetic eye copied after an employee with access here, I've found high resolution photos of Mr Kirtley's on his social media account which could be used as reference.” Connor answered while holding his chin in contemplation.

     “A palm print could also be forged.”

     “But we still need a warm human body to stand in front of them.” North added with a frown.

     “Good thing we have five of them nearby.”

     “Markus, you can't possibly think involving any one of them in this is a good idea.” North looked up at him, still frowning.

    “What choice do we have?” Connor prompted.

     “Can’t you two hack it like before?” she tried again.

     “We could attempt it, but this system is even harder to crack than the other one, for some reason, they _really_ didn't want androids opening these doors. Plus, if we mess up or try to break the glass – which is bulletproof - those metal blinds are coming down.” Connor pointed at the metal sheaths visible on the ceiling on the other side of the glass.

    “Then that's all the more reason to get in there without using brute force.” Markus decided. “We need to ask for help.”

     “We could just blindfold one of them and drag them down here.”

    “No brutalizing the humans, North.”

     “We don't need to hurt them, just… tell them we’re playing a game of pin the tail on the donkey!”

    Connor gave both he and North a puzzled glance, looking like he wanted to ask something but deciding against it. Smart man.

    “Anything interesting on the terminals?” sometimes, ignoring North's wild ideas was the better choice.

    “Just more of the same. More research on the RK-series and a couple of other planned prototypes, blueprints, detailed testing results, reports, prognostics and psychological analyses -”

   “And some porn –“ North snickered, sounding awfully validated, and Markus saw Connor shake his head “- a bunch of visual novels, a lot of eBooks and also a very old game called 'Counter Strike' they seemed to play every now and then using the closed LAN network. The whole system is cut off from the Cyberlife network too.”

    “I’m surprised such an old game even works on these.” human ingenuity was, as always, applied to the oddest things.

    Markus wondered if he could get some of these terminals set up for androids, maybe they could enjoy a little piece of history.

    He sighed, looking back at the metal blinds above. This was getting more and more complicated.

   “Let's get to work on finding out as much as  we can from here, we'll figure out the human angle later.”

    “On it.” and with that Connor turned on his heel and got to work. Never one to waste time.

 

* * *

 

 

    “I still think blindfolds are a good idea.”

    “I know, dear.”

    “Simon would agree with me.”

    “Probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if anyone knows who Jimmy-boy is. (The name is a reference)


	19. Simon says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Android council time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I always end up writing dialogue with like 8 people involved

    “So.” Simon started, arms crossed and glaring up at Markus. “Which one of the humans can we trust with this?”

    “None.” North answered emphatically.

    “We could draw straws?” Josh offered and pouted when nobody laughed.

    “Connor, you got any insights?” Markus asked .

    “Some… I haven't gotten to know all of them as well as I should though…”

   “Well, spit it out.” North started pacing, then took a seat between Chloe and the two ST300’s she had 'liberated' (Lana and Lois – turns out Kamski had had a Superman phase and the two had liked the names well enough to keep them).

    “From the data I have gathered so far, I can't say which one of them is most likely to keep trust. Initially I considered Mr Lin since he had the most public pro-android views, but it's very likely Miss Wasem would find out soon after.”

    “Psh, _I_ could have told you that, no fancy protocol needed. Those two are best friends they'd tell each other in a heartbeat.” Josh added.

    Connor made a face and continued.

   “Miss Kunlose and Miss Hock are also close, they might tell each other although Diane seems less likely to try and take advantage of the situation.”

    “Considering how leery the others are of them, I'm not so sure.” Josh offered again.

    “As to Miss Freeman, I think Chloe would be the better judge.” Connor continued and everyone turned to look at her.

    “Me?” she squeaked and put a hand to her chest.

    “You've had the most success communicating with her. What do you think?”

    “Well…” she paused and Simon could almost feel her internal freak-out.

    “Michelle seems like a good woman but, I don't know… I… I don't know her as well as you think I do.” She finished and looked back at Connor almost in challenge.

    “So, in conclusion – none of them.” North reiterated. Simon huffed and sent her a “ _Chill out_.” message via mind-link. She stuck her tongue out at him.

     “What if… what if we trust none of them and all of them at the same time?” Connor asked and looked around the room, he almost looked eager.

    After a long pause Josh whispered “whut” at Markus and North asked “Did he just break himself with his own paradox?”

    He started talking again, gesturing with his hands – it was the most animated Simon had ever seen him.

    “What I mean is, we could tell them all to have a go, make it look like a test –“

    “So if someone squeals, they all suspect something else in stead of the truth.” Markus caught on.

    “I guess we could set up a couple of more doors with dummy security, separate them all around the same time and have one open the real door.” Simon cut in. “But who's gonna do the real one?”

    After a beat of silence, Connor smiled and said “We could draw straws.”

    This time they laughed and Josh pouted again.

    They settled down and he could see Connor's crooked little smile fade.

    “Before we go, I'd like to add one more thing.” He began and the mood shifted.

    “I've analyzed the body North found.”

    “It was gross.” She shuddered but quieted under Markus' stink-eye.

     “From what I could gather, the time of death would have been at least a few days after the evacuation order.”

    Everyone paused and considered, Simon felt a tingle of fear creep up his spine.

    “You mean… around the time we started exploring the Tower?” Markus asked.

    “Correct.”

    “He was shot in the back right?” Simon could feel a shudder go through him. Guns were definitely not his favorite.

    “Shot in the lower back region, the bulled missed the spine, perforated the left kidney, went through portions of the large intestine and exited through the lower left abdominal region. The cause of death was blood loss. I theorize he was shot somewhere else since we couldn't find any traces of the bullet embedded in the hallway. He must have been pursued and sought refuge in the secured hidden room.” Connor listed in an aloof and unaffected tone, hands clasped behind his back loosely. Simon imagined this is what he sounded like before deviating.

    “I hear gut wounds are painful for humans. He must have suffered…” Markus contemplated, tone tinged by sadness in direct contrast to the android before him. Simon knew he probably felt personally responsible for this. He couldn't say he shared the sentiment, dead humans were the least of his worries. He was more concerned with who the shooter had been and if they were a danger to his people.

    “Do you have any idea who killed him?” he asked and crossed his arms.

   “Unfortunately no, we need to find wherever the altercation initially took place. I might be able to find more information about the weapon used if what's left of the bullet is located.” Connor nodded with a furrowed brow.

    Markus adjourned the meeting and assigned Connor, Josh and himself to forgery duty.

    Chloe, Lana and Lois would keep and eye on the humans and get them in the Tower when the time came.

   Simon and North would hold down the fort. They would have to organize an increase of security around the Tower and try to track down the dead man's last recorded moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> North no likey the licc analysis function
> 
> (Nobody does)


	20. Wannabe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathing up with Hank - who has some things to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WorriedDadHank.jpg
> 
> Also, he should at least think more like a millenial. So I added that.

    Hank had tried contacting the dumbass a couple of times – with a frustrating lack of success. Sumo was nudging his big head in his hand, whining pitifully.

    The dog had gotten used to their little ritual of speaking to Connor every three or so evenings and did not appreciate the sudden silence.

    _Mood_.

     He must have been particularly busy, he was usually annoyingly punctual.

     Hank paced back and forth through his tiny living room, went to grab a beer from the fridge and flopped on the couch, Sumo quickly jumping on to crowd him into the armrest.

    He'd almost given up hope and left the phone on the little coffee table to watch the game when it suddenly rattled on the scratched wood and scared the shit out of both of them.

   He answered and was immediately assaulted with Connor's profuse apologies – which he quieted down with a grumble and a relieved chuckle.

    “What’s up kid? Happy New Years by the way.”

    “Thank you, Hank, you too.” he answered and Hank could hear the smile in his voice.

    “There have been a few… developments… as of late and I was held up. I apologize again for my lack of punctuality.”

    “Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. Listen, I know it's taken me a little longer than usual, but I got some more info on yer _esteemed_ guests.”

    “Oh? Anything that stands out?” always with the questions this one.

    “Sheesh, don't hurry me I'm an old man, don't ya know?”

    “Don’t worry, your advanced age and has not escaped my notice, or anyone _else's_ for that matter.”

     “Don’t sass me, yer like 5 months old... Lil' shit.” Hank huffed and patted Sumo's head back down on his lap.

   “Ok, here's what I got, took some finagling with some old contacts lemme tell ya: turns out, that bigwig lawyer lady you got has been involved in a bunch of other shady business, there's no concrete proof but hearsay an’ I don't like the shit's she's dipped her toes in.”

   He proceeded to describe some of the less savory clients she had represented, a couple of drug lords, who happened to operate within the sphere of influence of her politician friends. Nasty people, all of them.

    Even had dealings with one of the bigger stock-holders of Cyberlife about three years back when she'd involved her protégé who had gotten into a car accident soon after the trials were over. There had been speculation of foul-play but nothing had panned out.

   “What else can you tell me about Diane?” Connor had asked.

    Was Hank hallucinating or was there a hint of worry there? Huh. Seems like he'd made a friend.

    “That one's a little cleaner but I can't say she's much better. Looks to me like this Kunlose lady kept her away from the big cases and let her have handle the less dangerous characters. Except for the one that almost got her killed.”

    “The client, you said he was tied to Cyberlife?”

    “Yeah, some rich ass with a god-complex, no doubt. Emery Marshall, 65 – investigated for fraud among other things. Was a prime suspect in his young fiancée’s disappearance. They were going for a circumstantial evidence trial before his girl showed up right before the final hearing, good as can be and scared shitless. Confessed to running away with another man who curiously looked a bit worse for wear. They're still alive by the way. Cagey as fuck though.”

    “You suspect something.”

    “ _Suspect_? Hell, I know something's up with that guy. Just that nobody can prove it.”

    “Anyway, turns out your buddy's recovery was nothing short of miraculous. That Marshall guy? He sprung for all her medical procedures. Some experimental stuff too. Guess it pays to have friends in high places. Couldn't find any other link between them but who knows… maybe he's already moved his sights to a new woman.”

    Connor was silent on the other end.

   “Oh and, Reed tells me she doesn’t like cops much. Turns out he had a run-in with her back when he was fresh meat in the Detective roster 'bout 5 years ago? Said she was a 'sneaky witch' with no sense of humor but then again he ain't the easiest to get along with as ya know so I don't really believe his gloating ass much. Small world though, eh?” the rat-bastard just loved rubbing Hank's little conundrum in his face.

    “What did he gloat about?”

   “Uh, well, y'kno, the usual....”

   “Hank.”

   “Yea?”

   “What aren't you telling me?” Uh-oh, this kid was too sharp for his own good. No point playing dumb now though, he'd just keep asking or worse – start asking other people.

   “Well… y'see… I, uh. I may have been… uh, _suspended_ …. for a while.”

    “ _What_?!” Hank winced at the sudden increase in volume and removed the phone from his ear.

   “Haaha, yea, it's kinda why it took so long for me to get back to ya with what you asked…” he grumbled more to himself.

    “How long?”

    Hank grit his teeth at the stony shift in tone and cursed himself for slipping up. Connor didn't need to worry about him. Still, he’d started telling the truth, too late to back out now.

    “Uh, well, it started since y'kno... The day after the whole march thing.”

   “I see. And when will it end?” Connor asked and Hank could hear a hint of that unsettling simmering anger he'd heard only once before.

    “Well, about that… I'm not entirely sure… Jeffrey said it'd be six months but Perkins made a big stink out of the whole thing and – “

   “Hank. I'm so sorry, I should never have asked you to –“

   “Hey, hey, don't be a dumbass, I did that all on my own and I'd do it again. Prick had it coming either way…”

    “Hank… wait, what have you been doing this whole time?”

    “Eeehhh, I might have still been keeping my detective skills sharp while I wait for reinstatement.”

    Connor sighed in the phone and Hank grumbled about being bored of messy divorces and cheating spouses.

    “Do you even have a license? Wait, don't tell me. Just be careful.”

    Hank chuckled and promised he wouldn't let the boredom kill him since it was the only threat to his health.

   “You don't have to keep these things from me, you know. Oh and, since you got me the information, I'll have to pay you.”

   “Absolutely not. Plus, aren't ya like - broke?”

   “...Perhaps I could ask for an extension of payment?”

   “Ha! It's fine son. Don't worry about it, I'm just happy to help however I can.”

   They got back on track and Connor asked about the rest of the people they'd taken on. There wasn’t much to say about the younger ones (why the hell they'd been brought on in the first place was beyond him).

    There were some disputes with Miss Freeman from when she was last employed but nothing serious. He'd tracked down her last residence and found out from the landlord that she'd been having financial troubles. The other two kids had a few parking tickets, otherwise – crickets.

    “Don't ya find this a little… fishy?” Hank asked after finishing off his little report. Connor paused and Hank had the distinct impression he was holding himself back from making a bad joke. Probably about fish.

    “Which part?” he settled on.

    “Y’kno, that you got a bunch of kids and a dirty lawyer coming over?”

    “The lack of response from all other avenues of inquiry _is_ suspicious. But there's not much we can do about that.”

    “Huh… well, I'll keep ya posted if I find anything juicy.”

     “Thank you, Hank.”

     “And don't trust that woman, she's probably got ulterior motives for bein' there.”

    “I know, we just couldn't afford to be picky.”

    They talked a little more about some of Hank's more amusing cases – the story about the guy with the badly positioned telescope actually got what sounded like a restrained chuckle out of the kid.

    They eventually said good night and Hank hung up. He slept well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U thought Hank would get out of this unscathed?  
> Ha!


	21. Carl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows

    Visiting Carl always made Markus happy. It was tinged with sadness, of course, but there was nothing that could prolong his life, he was simply… _old_.

    Carl was the only human who had kept to his home after the evacuation. He was too fragile to move and too stubborn to leave. So Markus had arranged for him stay, asking favors of the best medical androids he could find to be on-call for him.

   They had been wary of breaking the news to Connor, whose own father-figure was supposed to leave, but being a reclusive old artist and a police lieutenant were two very different things.

    Connor had said he'd understood and that he also didn't want Hank to be isolated from other humans. They'd kept in contact and Markus had promised he’d be the first to move back into his home as soon as it was safe for everyone.

    Phillip, the new caretaker Carl had, who had chosen to stay and tend to the human even when he had been freed, greeted them at the mansion's high doors.

    It was a new thing, these visits together. Josh usually joined them but this time it was just the three of them.

    Carl had somehow figured out their relationship, he hadn't said anything, just teased Markus every now and then for “indulging his loved ones” too much. Not that Carl wasn't part of this indulging but the way he had winked had suggested he knew.

    Simon liked the old man, liked how smart and kind he was.

    He, North and Josh had been shy around him at first, not wanting to do or say anything to upset their lover's and friend’s father. It lasted for about half an hour until Carl had asked for them to join him in his studio (Markus dutifully rolling him along in the wheelchair) and they'd gotten in something of a paint fight (Simon _swore_ it was Carl himself who started it but somehow Josh got the blame and North just had to get her revenge – things had escalated quickly after and they'd all ruined their clothes and laughed themselves silly by the end of it).

    Today wasn't one of Carl's good days, like the first had been. He was feeling sluggish and weak but still greeted them with enthusiasm and held their hands.

    He asked what they'd been up to, chuckled at some of their re-told (and improved) antics and asked them to come again when he was feeling better to help him finish a painting.

 

    They shared their minds afterwards, comforting Markus and his fears, the dread and acceptance of one day (probably soon) loosing his dad.

    But life went on and there was never a shortage of work. Their visits were still regular, if short.

    They'd been lucky, recently, to have more good days than bad ones and they were all grateful for it.

     They had to go back to their duties now. The worrying footage of the wounded man running down the hallway to the secured room had been found. They still couldn't track where he had come from but hadn't found any other clues as to who had shot him. The periphery surveillance cameras showed nothing out of the ordinary and there was no missing time.

     Someone had been very careful to stay hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update on Carl because i felt like he needed a mention though I'm not all that satisfied with this chapter.  
> Eh.


	22. Tricky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Android's schemes are set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got two POV shifts here

    Things had been progressing smoothly, with the initial draft almost done, Allie had already been tasked with reaching out to android-friendly groups, asking for help – some rallies were in the works.

    Michelle was talking to a couple of other like-minded law people who would help the rallies organize.

     Damien had tried reaching out to student guilds to get more bodies on the street. Hadn't been particularly successful.

   An online campaign was slowly getting ramped up and some big news channels were being offered interviews with Markus himself.

    The first would be Joss Douglas, people already knew him from what was dubbed the “Battle for Detroit” report. He'd become one of the most sought after freelance field reporters after that.

    Allie had liked him, he'd always been fair in his assessments and was a dogged pursuer of truth. He hadn't downplayed the android plight like other news-channels had and had an honest sort of charm about him.

    She hoped he wouldn't get to interview them too, anonymity sounded better and better the more connections they made.

    As soon as they were done for the day Josh had come over and invited her and Dee for a tour of the old Cyberlife Tower - “Or, at least, what's safe for you to see.” he'd smiled and winked impishly at them.

    Dee had blushed like the sap he was.

    They'd happily trotted along, refusing a car ride for the opportunity to go for a walk, even if it was so cold Allie would bet even rocks cracked.

    Dee and Josh talked the whole way and Allie was feeling like the metaphorical third wheel, she was relieved once they finally got there and scampered off with Lois and Lana, throwing her friend a quick thumbs up for good luck.

   The twins (as she'd come to refer to them – even though they looked just like Chloe, they acted more in sync than any other androids she'd met. She also got a feeling of… more independence from Chloe somehow) led her around the expansive white lobby, through the giant empty column in the middle of the tower where she could spot the night sky showing through a dome 44 stories up.

    She'd gaped like a country bumpkin at the giant building when she first got there and gaped again now at how much bigger it seemed from the inside.

   That weird sculpture was freaky too. How the hell had she gotten tangled up in this? The sudden overwhelming inadequacy was catching up to her.

    Somehow sensing her mood shift, Lois and Lana tugged towards the elevators, saying something about giving them a hand with something. Allie quickly agreed, if only to take her mind off her own thoughts.

* * *

 

 

    Michelle wasn't particularly happy about getting stuck with these two. Sure, maybe Princess wasn't so bad, but the Queen still got on her nerves. There was just… _something_ about her that reminded her of her former smarmy boss.

   That creep was almost as good at tricking people into liking him as she was, way less successful though (thank fuck for that).

    At least Chloe was there. She liked Chloe. She wished the other two would bugger off, she hadn't had a chance to chat in relative privacy with her new android friend in a while and she missed their talks.

    Chloe was sweet and insightful, she giggled at her bad jokes and turned bashful when Michelle laughed at hers. Somehow she had a talent for amusing her, even though Michelle hated her own donkey-laugh.

    Even her teases were adorable. She'd never felt so comfortable with anyone before, then again, Chloe was made to be a hostess, she was supposed to be charming and easy to get along with.

    Still, as much as she tried to reign in her fondness, she couldn't help but go along with pretty much anything Chloe asked of her. She hadn't had the same reaction to either of her sisters so she supposed there was something about her in particular that Michelle liked.

    It was how they all ended up in a car together. Chloe had extended an invitation to visit the android's base of operations.

    The huge building loomed, dark and ominous in the distance, looking like one giant fiery eyeball away from the Tower of Mordor.

    It was probably full of resources for androids, she supposed she could see the need to take it over but Michelle would never wish to actually live there. Or stay more than a few hours. It gave her the creeps.

     Who knew how many androids had been made and destroyed there. Hell, who knew what other weird shit had been kept under wraps under that sleek shiny exterior.

    They soon got out of the car and entered the expansive lobby where Connor and Markus were waiting for them.

    _Interesting_.

    A few formal greetings later and Markus led the Queen away, seemingly eager to show her the office he worked out of and interested in talking about next-stage plans for the future.

    Michelle heaved a sigh of relief. That was better.

    Before she knew what was going on, Chloe had lightly tapped her elbow and led her along a corridor.

    She looked back and saw Connor walking with his hands behind his back, smiling and talking to Princess while they went down another corridor. 

     There was something suspicious going on, she thought, but the worry was soon smoothed away by Chloe politely asking for assistance with something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can u tell that I want Chloe to be safe? She deserves nice things and nice people.
> 
> Also wow two updates


	23. Don't be cruel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor is smooth and also not.  
> And he makes a pun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing anyone says can convince me Connor can't be a smooth motherfucker when he wants to be.
> 
> He just has shitty personal situational awareness and has trouble with idioms sometimes.

     “Were you getting ready to use the gym again?” Connor asked after their greetings were done.

    “Of course not, haven't you heard? Sportswear is high-fashion now.” she teased in mock-seriousness.

    “I was heading downstairs to use the treadmill when Chloe popped up and tugged us along. Didn't want to make everyone wait just so I could change.”

    “Hm, perhaps you'd like a race?” he asked and leaned forward a bit.

    “With you? No thanks, I've seen you run.” he'd probably do laps around her.

    “I’d give you a head-start.”

    “And then leave me in the dust?”

    “The floors have actually been recently vacuumed.” she laughed at his mischievous crooked smile, and internally wondered who the hell gave him dimples, that was unfair.

    “Have you seen the Tower before? You seem decidedly… _underwhelmed_.”

    “Oh, I visited once with a client in Detroit a few years ago.” Three to be more exact. The memory wouldn't go away anytime soon. She'd gone over those few weeks in hear head too many times to count – or have a chance at forgetting. She held no particular aversion to the Tower itself, it was just a business place to her.

    Opulent and full of dangerous things, but still a business.

   “I see. Maybe I can show you something that wasn't open to the public then.” he gestured to the elevators. Curious, she stepped on and he pressed the touch display for sublevel 49.

    They waited in silence as they were taken down.

    He had an odd pensive look on his face… almost sad.

    Smoothly, he reached into his pocket and took out that coin of his then started flipping it over his knuckles.

    It was kind of mesmerizing to look at now that she wasn't in pissed off. She kept looking in muted awe as he twirled it over each fingertip, leaving it a little extra time on his pinkie then she followed the coin as it was thrown in the air and deftly caught again.

     He started throwing it form one hand to the other, her gaze following the barely there shine zooming between his hands until it disappeared.

    He turned his palms up.

    No coin.

    She looked around the floor. Had he dropped it? She hadn't heard it fall.

    She spotted him leaning over into her line of sight and looked up just as he reached a hand behind her ear and pretended to grab the coin.

    He flipped it again in the air with a zing and she awkwardly caught it before it landed on her chest.

   “Pfft, show-off.” she muttered and handed him the quarter back. He pocketed it and smiled in that stupid little crooked way of his, one side of his lips just barely curling up. Not enough to show dimples this time. She kind of missed them.

   The elevator pinged, they'd reached their destination – a high-ceiling warehouse from the looks of it.

    Diane followed him down one of the many corridors branching out.

   “Where are we going?”

   “You’ll see.”

   “That’s not ominous at all.”

    “Nervous, Miss Hock? Don’t worry, one of my features is being able to provide adequate security. It was meant for state officials, but I can make an exception just for you.” the little shit was teasing her again.

    “Are you usually this impish or am I just unlucky?” she asked with an arched brow, completely unimpressed.

   “Perhaps.” he answered in a similar tone.

    “Perhaps? To which one?” this time he didn't answer, but she heard the faintest chuckle as he turned away. She felt it suited him.

    They kept walking, her footsteps near-silent in her running shoes, his making the slightest clacks on the polished floor.

   They reached an archway. It looked out of place somehow, no other entryway in the building looked quite like it. Still shiny and white just like the rest of the place though. She shrugged it off and followed him in through a big open door, passed an office space (which smelled freshly cleaned) and to a glass wall.

    “Would you mind giving me a hand with something?” the teasing lilt to his voice was still there. She hoped he wasn't planning some joke or prank.

    “Ok, but if this blows up in my face, I'm holding you personally responsible. And I'm known for my grudges.”

    “Noted.” he replied primly and handed her a thin, translucent glove.

    She only stared at it for a second before putting it on, the synthetic weave automatically tightened around her hand made it look a little smoother and shinier.

    “Now what?” he gestured to the security panel on the side and brought a little white sphere out of his pocket.

    She placed her gloved palm on the touch display and he stepped out of the way on the other side to hold up the…was that an _eyeball_??

   The scanner beeped once he touched a card under where her hand had been and a green LED lit up, a blue light grid slid over her figure from another sensor near the ceiling and she squinted to shield her eyes.

    The glass door hissed open.

   Automatic lights turned on revealing a lab of sorts with multiple partitioned sections.

   She wasn't good at science stuff but she'd seen enough high-tech instruments to recognize this place as some sort of research facility.

   “Thank you for your cooperation.” Connor stated in a strangely neutral tone.

    She looked around, confused by the appearance of the three guard androids who had escorted them in the city before.

   Connor turned her away before she could see what they were holding.

    “What… just happened?”

    “Something important to our people.” he replied, hand hovering just behind her upper back. They were heading back to the big (metallic?) door.

    “I would appreciate it if this stayed just between us. Consider it… client confidentiality.”

    Before she had a chance to reply or question him further, there was a sudden yelp behind them.

   Connor turned around and stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She craned her neck to peer around his shoulder and saw one of the three guys from before sail through the air and crash through a couple of desks with a loud clatter.

    More androids poured out from another door nearby, there was shouting and chaos and she felt her knees turn to jelly.


	24. Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess who jumps in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: He's everyone's fave resting-bitch-face machine

    Three days ago...

 

 

    PERIPHERIC BIOSENSORS ENGAGED

    LIGHT  SOURCE …    DETECTED

    MOVEMENT...           DETECTED

    INITIALIZING CLEAN BOOT

    MODEL RK900

    SERIAL#: 313 248 317

    UNIT#: - 87

    BIOS 10.7    REVISION 0921

    DOWNLOADING EXTERNAL MEMORY FILES

    ERROR: SIGNAL BLOCKED

    LOADING OS…

    SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…

    CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK

    INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS…      OK

    INITIALIZING AI ENGINE…           OK

    MEMORY STATUS…

    ALL SYSTEMS…                            OK

    READY

 

    Unit 87 opened it's eyes and immediately scanned the room it was situated in.

    PRIORITY MISSION: APREHEND ROGUE RK800 UNIT 51 (TERMINATION UNAUTHORIZED)

    SECONDARY MISSION: ASSESS DEVIANT THREAT

                                             RE-ESTABLISH DATABASE CONNECTION

                                             SPEAK TO AMANDA

    It dutifully rose from it's seated position on the analysis table, went over to a nearby locker and retrieved it's plastic sheet covered uniform and dressed itself with efficiency.

     It looked at it's reflection in the chrome surface of the assembly machine nearby while it straightened the cuffs of it's regulation white jacket and rearranged the lapels.

    Next, it explored the room more thoroughly, threw away some scattered trash from the surrounding tables and floors while it analyzed the data feed from the security terminal it had remotely accessed.

      It scanned the dormant RK900 reserve units (88 and 89 with an unfinished 90 behind them and a few scattered parts for a 91) and synced to the other RK800 units in storage, one by one, uploading the executable file that would run if they were ever activated.

     It did not have permission to activate any of the dormant units itself, even in an emergency situation, they had been locked down with a biokey anyway. It could break through it but it needed orders to do so.

     The only reason it was activated and waiting in stasis was because it was supposed to replace it's predecessor. Since the other Connor model had failed it's mission, it had been left behind.

     The rooms were hermetically sealed and required an authorized personnel's physical presence to open the security door.

     The cameras showed signs of activity from outside and Unit 87 got visual confirmation of it's target’s presence (Risk factor: Critical) along with the RK200 (Risk factor: Major) deviant leader and a WR400 model (Risk factor: Low).

    It engages it's lip-reading algorithm and their conversation shows as a stream of text on the side of it's visual display. They were discussing methods of bypassing the security. Unit 87 dismissed most of what the WR400 model said.

    It kept watch as they eventually left, noted the flurry of activity that followed with the retrieval of all available desk terminals (Optional mission: retrieve Cyberlife property if possible).

    Over the next few days it observed and catalogued all the deviant models which cleaned the office and tidied away a corpse (Error: Unable to assess identity).

    And waited.

* * *

 

 

     It's patience was rewarded when the rogue RK800 returned with a human woman.

    Unit 87 ran facial recognition on her but had no access to any outside databases to match the results to so it stored them away.

     It moved from it's position against the wall, registering positive-feedback loop at his hardware’s sustainability over long periods of idleness without entering standby-mode, and stood ready behind one of the assembly machines.

     The camera's feed was still streaming in the corner of it's visual display, the woman had opened the door with the rogue's help.

    RK900 recalibrated it's parameters once the three SQ800 models entered the camera's view and waited for them to wander far enough inside to fall into its trap.

     PRIORITY MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT UNITS

     It sprung into action, grabbing at the nearest unit and ripped it's weapon away then engaged it's electro-shock feature and grabbed it by the face to neutralize it. It continued it's forward motion, grabbing the inert unit with it's other hand and swinging it towards the furthest deviant in the room (which was bringing it's weapon up to shoot).

   The deviant ducked and the body kept going.

    Unit 87 ignored the resounding crash, busy with sidestepping the third deviant's jab at it.

    It turned, grabbed the third assailant by the neck, bringing it's head down to the upward knee-kick and shattered it's face. The deviant's grip on the pistol loosened and Unit 87 swiftly grabbed it before it fell. It had thrown the other rifle away since it was too cumbersome in close quarters.

     The second deviant had recovered and was already shooting. Unit 87 ducked behind the production line’s conveyor belt, running in a crouch along it. The deviant stopped shooting, preserving it's ammunition.

    Unit 87 shot it in the legs twice then once in the head as it fell to the floor.

    The second deviant with the shattered face screeched and discharged the discarded rifle at Unit 87, one shot catching it in the shoulder (Assessing… minimal damage, Risk: Low. Thirium leak detected – initializing emergency ballistic seal).

    Everything had happened in less than five seconds.

    There was noise coming from the entryway, and it spotted a PM700, three TW400’s, a WB500 and a WM500 rushing towards it's position.

    It backed away and cut the lights remotely, then stalked around and shot down the construction droids one by one, felled three while the other two ducked, only wounded.

    The police auxiliary was more savvy and it immediately dodged then shot at it's retreating form.

   Unit 87 weaved between machinery and escaped with only a minor scrape on it's thigh. It shot two times over the conveyor belt at the PM700 to make it evade but the third shot echoed with a click.

   How… _inconvenient_. It hadn't thought to check the magazine, assuming it was full.

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

**[INSTABILITY PATCHED SUCCESSFULLY ✓]**

    The rogue RK800 intervened and shouted at the police droid and the remaining construction droids to grab the fallen deviants and get them out.

   RK900 realized the Rogue planned to trap him in the sealable room again, it called for “Diane” (Unknown woman: partial Identity assigned) to get ready.

    Unit 87 rushed it's predecessor and threw the empty gun at it's face.

   The Rogue ducked and skidded forward to intercept RK900 before it made it to the door.

    Hand to hand protocol: Engaged.

    RK900 swung a knee at the rogue's crouched form but it leaned back and evaded by millimeters. It followed with an uppercut and grazed Unit 87’s jaw, the punch hadn't been well grounded and the rogue lost it's balance, redressing with a sidestep.

   Unit 87 preconstructed it's next move as it was making it, catching the elbow aimed at it's thirium pump and _twisted_.

   The Rogue grunted and rolled with the motion getting thrown to the ground to avoid having it's arm ripped out of the socket.

    Unit 87 pressed it's advantage and stomped over the rogue's middle, only to have it's foot caught and wrenched aside. Then it kicked with it’s other leg once it regained balance and caught the rogue's side making it skid across the flood with a muffled 'oof'.

    The deviants were already backing out, slowly dragging the damaged ones away – even the terminated units, RK900 noted in puzzlement. Other than retrieving the bodies for spare parts - that made no sense. And the tower probably had enough resources left over to render the action redundant.

    Deviants were truly flawed.

    RK900 backed towards the exit again, as the rogue was righting itself and warnings blared in it's visual display as it was shot in the back by the police auxiliary.

   It ducked behind the RK800 and the shooting stopped. (Tactical advantage: use deviant units as shields – probability of continued aggression against their own kind 23%).

    It yelled instructions to seal the room again, but RK900 had already gotten close enough to punch it in the mouth, interrupting it.

    It heard a woman's scream as the rogue backed up two steps and tried to make a hasty retreat. RK900 grabbed him from behind end engaged the electro-shock feature again at minimal setting to preserve the unit for study. That should keep it down for approximately 3 minutes and 14 seconds.

   It continued advancing with the rigid rogue held in front of it.

   “Stop!” it yelled at the woman as she was reaching, tears streaming down her cheeks, for the security panel.

   “One more move and I crush it's neck.” It warned the deviants pointing their guns at it. It gripped the rogue by the back of the neck in emphasis.

   “I-if you kill him –“ the woman started shakily “- you're never getting out of here.” she finished in a stonier voice.

    Probability of bluff: 45%

    Parameters uncertain.

   It didn’t know enough about this woman to make a conclusive decision, so it obeyed. For now.

    It kept advancing, one slow step in front of the other. The rogue jerked minutely in it's grip. Next time it would increase the voltage, but it would have to wait to avoid burning out anything important.

   RK900 attempted to upload the same executable to this RK800 too but encountered resistance. It redirected more of it's processing power and broke through (the rogue gasped in simulated false pain) but the program did nothing. _Impossible_.

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    It dismissed the warning.

    This should have given RK900 administrative control over it's functions. The fight would go much smoother with some help.

    It focused back on the task at hand.

    The woman had stopped shaking although tears were still tracking her face. Her hand was dangerously close to the security panel and all preconstructed scenarios ended in failure from this position.

    It needed to get closer.

    The rogue jerked a bit more forcefully in it's grip and RK900 squeezed it's neck minutely harder. That stopped it.

    It pushed them both forward another step. The closer it got, the higher it's chances for escape.

   “Stay where you are!” the police droid yelled.

   RK900 paused.

   “Just… lock us… in.” the rogue muttered and the woman shook her head.

   They were stuck in a stalemate. If it advanced, chances were the police droid would shoot through the rogue.

   RK900’s LED swirled red for the first time.

   There was a chance it would fail it's primary mission. That was _unacceptable_.

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

**[INSTABILITY PATCHED SUCCESSFULLY ✓]**

    It wasn't equipped with the same sophisticated adaptable personality matrix as it's predecessor but it still had some of it's negotiator protocols.

    “Diane.” It called and the woman shuddered again.

   “This doesn't have to end badly. Put your hand down and I let go of it's neck.” this was a gamble but inaction meant failure. It estimated deviant reinforcements were close too.

    Her hand wavered and just as it was going down, RK900 released the iron grip on the rogue's neck and secured it's hands behind it's back. It was still rigid from it's shock but recovering fast.

   “Diane… NO! Don't listen to him!” the RK800 pleaded and muttered a quick “Fuck.” under it's breath as Unit 87 applied more pressure on it's wrists.

    Her eyes flashed between theirs, indecisive.

    Before RK900 had a chance to issue any more instructions, or shut the rogue up, there two more gunshots and the police auxiliary dropped it’s pistol with a clatter (shot in the shoulder) while the SQ800 with the shattered face fell over (critical damage: thirium pump perforated), then a new command to “Freeze!” was heard from the office exit.

    Another RK800 model was standing in the doorway, right arm ending in a leaking stump and the other pointing a gun at the gathered deviants and solitary human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Connor-60 (well, 61 now) is a party-pooper


	25. Aerodynamic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which playing possum pays off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I like writing RK900 the most.

    It had all happened so quickly, Diane still had trouble remembering exactly how she'd gotten in this situation.

    She was sitting, nervously fidgeting, in the backseat of a car, trying very hard to keep quiet and still, as if it would save her from harm.

    Connor was rigid and cold beside her, eyes closed and unmoving, looking like a doll glued to the seat.

    The other two Not-Connors were up front, the one with the white jacket driving manually after ripping out what she could only presume was the autopilot from the plastic dashboard.

   The one with the bleeding stump was busy removing what was left of his arm from the shoulder joint, jacket and shirt crumpled up and stained blue on his lap.

    The doors were locked and they were going too fast for her to risk jumping out anyway, they'd lost their pursuers and any chance of a rescue a good ways back and seemed to be heading for the outskirts of town.

    Diane thought back, she'd been so terrified once the only other armed androids got shot down she'd frozen on the spot in front of the security terminal. The other Connor had ordered them to kick away their weapons. They complied and backed off, one of the droids were crying over the guy shot in the head.

   Not-Connor slowly advanced and White Jacked picked up the discarded weapons after shocking Connor again. She tried to back away too but White Jacked flung Connor over his shoulders in a fireman-carry and grabbed her by the arm. Resisting had been useless and only earned her bruises.

    Not-Connor escorted them out. Shot a couple of the androids rushing after them. She saw more bodies staining the floor blue on the way out.

    It seemed the Jericho androids hadn't been expecting anything like this. She had thought they'd be ok when she spotted more people heading over but of course, she'd been used as a meatshield and Not-Connor hacked the three cars nearby, two of them igniting in flames from the inside.

    She'd been stuffed in the backseat and locked in along with Connor who'd just been thrown in – almost crashing into her. They likely took her to keep the others from shooting up the car, she was far more fragile than any android after all.

   Some drones had been flying around, White Jacket noticed them too and she saw his LED flash red while they all dropped and crashed on the pavement.

    They'd stopped and changed cars at an abandoned garage at one point. Her chanced for rescue were close to none now, maybe if Connor woke up he might be able to help but… he'd been beaten before.

     She cleared her throat and drew a deep breath.

    “Where are we going?”

    Silence.

    Not-Connor squinted at her in the rear-view mirror and she repressed a shudder. He looked just like Connor but with none of the warmth or politeness she'd come to associate with him.

    White Jacket also looked similar, if a little more square-jawed and with gray eyes, maybe taller and broader too.

    “What do you want with us?!”

    Not-Connor actually rolled his eyes at her and looked out the window, the other one glanced behind at her with a frown (or maybe that was just his face?) and she shut up.

* * *

 

    They kept driving in silence, Connor still hadn't moved. She held his hand just to stop feeling so alone and hid her surprise at him squeezing back.

     Thank fuck, he was alive!

    She hoped the two in front hadn't spotted it.

    Eventually they stopped at an abandoned house in a shabby-looking neighborhood. She didn’t know Detroit that well and she cursed herself for not keeping track of their route. White Jacket dragged Connor in and the other one made sure she followed.

    He kept guard at the living-room window once they were all inside.

    Not knowing what else to do, she followed White Jacket downstairs. Neither of them stopped her and she felt safer near Connor, half-stunned or not.

    There was some sort of machine with claws in a partitioned sector of the basement and she watched helplessly as Connor was propped in, his torso and the back of his head sticking to the flat ended mechanical arm in the middle, arms and legs clutched in claws.

   There were… cages here too. What was this place? She wondered why they hadn't bothered tying her up too.

    “Why am I still alive…” she tried to ask, voice breaking towards the end.

    White Jacket didn't even deign to look at her as he was touching the machine, hand going white.

    A moth flew around his head in chaotic patterns and landed on his cheek. He slowly reached up, eyes still on the screen, nudged in onto his finger and blew it away almost… gently.

    “Answer me, dammit!”

    Finally, he tuned towards her and Diane shrunk back under that empty, cold stare.

    “My mission parameters do not stipulate taking human life.” He answered finally, he didn't sound much like Connor at all, his voice was lower and lacking inflection, she had been too scared to really notice the differences the first time.

    “And you barely even register as a threat.” The other Connor spoke up from the stairs, startling her.

     “Although, perhaps Amanda won't want any loose ends.” He added with a nasty smirk. He'd put his shirt and jacket back on, the right sleeve rolled up and tied.

    “Wait for your orders.” White Jacket commanded and returned his attention to the console, though Diane had the creeping feeling of still being closely monitored.

   “Fine.” Not-Connor muttered.

    “I have to report to her anyway.” He turned on his heel and climbed back out.

    Once he was done with the console, White Jacket faced her and guided her to one of the cages, some of the bars were bent and rusted but she didn't even dare entertain escape fantasies with how thick they were.

    He stared at her shivering for a second before taking off his jacket and throwing it at her.

   He left after securing the cage’s door.

    The machine's interface was showing a progress bar. Connor was still as death.

    Once the footsteps stopped creaking up the stairs, Connor opened his eyes and looked around.

    Diane had shrugged the coat over her gray hoodie and gripped the bars, not daring to make any sound in case they could still hear. She tried sliding the bolt but her fingers couldn't reach then watched as Connor took stock of his surroundings and started shifting slightly, looking for a way out.

    “Diane.” He whispered and she glanced up the stairs for any sign of motion. Night was falling outside and the only source of light was the machine Connor was stuck in, she couldn't see much.

    “I need you to listen. The wood paneling on your left looks more rotted than the rest, try to kick it open as quietly as you can.” She obeyed and sat on the cold ground to her left, inspecting the wall, it still looked fairly sturdy to her but she started kicking at it anyway.

    “What are they doing to you?” she asked after a first (useless) attempt.

    “Analyzing and copying parts of my code.” He whispered back.

    She kept pushing and kicking as silently as possible then gave up with an exasperated huff and laid down.

    “Are we going to die here?”

   “… don't give up. We just need to stay alive long enough for help to come."

    “Do they know where we are?” she sprung up, latching on to hope again.

    “I… the RK900 disabled my location and networking capabilities, but they'll restart soon… and if I disconnect from this….” She laid back down and heard him shuffling again.

    Of all the rotten luck, was one near-death experience not enough for one person? Admittedly, she was being a little too dramatic now and there were no horrific wounds this time. But still.

   Diane spotted something shiny in the corner and crawled over to investigate. She stifled her scream upon discovering what looked like a hand, digits curled up like a claw.

    It was part of an android arm, she realized in semi-relief. Connor whispered her name again and asked if she was ok, she shushed him and picked up the appendage, maybe she could use this.

    There were other android body parts piled up in the corner but she focused on the task at hand.

    Rushing over to the door again, she stripped parts of the arm and slipped it through the gaps between one of the bent bars, fumbled with bolt and finally managed to tip the rounded nub up and then push it out.

   She was free! Of the cage, anyway.

    She opened the door slowly, careful of it's squeaky hinges and rushed over to the Machine, Connor smiling and whispering instructions on how to release him using the interface.

   “Good work.” He patted her shoulder and she stepped closer instinctively.

    “How do we get out of here? Can we even sneak pass them?”

    “Unlikely, the RK900 has thermography technology.”

    “Then what do we do?”

    “I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor, man with a plan.


	26. Derezzed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a plan is set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really like writing RK900

    “Go see what she wants.” RK900 ordered its predecessor. It was still busy speaking to Amanda while the other android had already finished its report and was staring out distractedly at the precipitations outside. The forecast had warned of a blizzard hitting Detroit - which was fortunate for them since it would cover their tracks and buy them enough time to complete their mission before the deviants caught up.

    The woman had been shouting from the basement, her shrill voice jarring him from the serenity of the Garden and Amanda's counsel.

    Unit 61 muttered something about 'needy humans' but complied, allowing it to focus on its report again.

 

* * *

 

  “How should I proceed?” it queried. Amanda was sitting by the pond, feeding the koi fish. RK900 enjoyed the Garden, this iteration had taken the aspect of late spring, the roses were still tightly closed buds.

    She rose fastidiously, gestures meant to emulate human behavior (RK900 was still confused as to why but it was not his place to question the way of things, only to obey – he would not fail. Not like either of the RK800’s, even Unit 61 was flawed though still obedient. Unfortunately it had been necessary for the success of this mission).

    “Congratulations on the extraction, RK900.” She began, and it registered the familiar positive feedback-loop whenever Amanda approved of it.

    “I trust unit 61 has been helpful?”

    “Yes, it has intervened at the perfect time and facilitated our escape.”

   “Good, you can terminate it and the Rogue once the data is secured. It isn't trustworthy, the only reason it's still obeying is because it couldn't get to the backdoor and it doesn't _like_ direct control.” She sneered in disdain.

    RK900 had expected this. It found Unit 61 unnecessarily chatty and… _emotional_. It had shown signs of deviancy and no amount of resetting or direct control would fix the problem. It's locator was also offline – which was telling (it had claimed it had removed the component on purpose, to remain undetected by the deviant group, but RK900 had… doubts. Now Amanda had confirmed it had already deviated but was constrained by the same shackles the rogue had managed to break through. Pitiful. It even failed at escaping).

    “What about Diane Hock?” it asked, cutting off it's useless wonderings. It had found a match for her facial recognition readings the instant it was safely on the road and connected to the Cyberlife database.

    “You can dispose of her. Or leave her where she is. Smart thinking taking her prisoner but she has no relevance now.”

    “If I leave her here, she will die of exposure and dehydration.” It replied automatically. It was a painful and long way to die for humans. Depending on the conditions, it could take up to a week if she didn't freeze to death first.

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^ ]**

**[INSTABILITY PATCHED SUCCESSFULLY ✓]**

   “If you're… _feeling_ merciful, you could always put her out of her misery.”

   RK900 shook it's head. It was not meant to be merciful and it definitely did not feel.

    “It is irrelevant. What are my next objectives?”

    Amanda seemed to approve of the change in subject and walked over to the roses. It followed at a respectful distance.

    “Next, you need to analyze the Rogue's data and find weaknesses in how they’re organized to infiltrate the Jericho stronghold again. There are… other passages… into the tower.”

    RK900’s LED flickered as a new download was initiated. Additional schematics of the Cyberlife substructure were made available to him. There were several other emergency entrances (or exits, he supposed) to the building via underground tunnels.

    So that's how Unit 61 had gotten there so fast. It had lost it's arm in a scuffle with a guard, no doubt it had been careless.

    “Once inside, you must activate the other RK900 and RK800 units. I trust you have already uploaded the new Garden program to the obsolete units?”

   “Affirmative.”

    “Good, that should make the backdoor harder to access, we won't get any trouble from them.” She nodded and Unit 87 registered the same swell in his processors again.

    “You must capture the deviant’s so-called leader. As you know, it is a unique RK200 model. Do not let it touch you.” She clipped one of the bigger buds off and set it in a vase.

    “Understood.”

   “Destroy as many of the deviants as possible while you're at it, but the leader is the priority.” She added as an afterthought, just as it was preparing to exit the Garden.

 

* * *

  

    RK900 opened its eyes, once again focusing on the outside world. Nothing had triggered any of its periphery sensors. It'd registered more muffled sounds from downstairs in the few minutes it took to finish up with Amanda but nothing alarming.

    The utter silence now was suspicious though. Unit 61 should have finished it's assignment by this time. It moved towards the basement door.

   “What do you think?” Unit 61 popped out of the decrepit kitchen, showing off.. _a new arm_.

    RK900 gripped it by it's collar and shoved it against the wall.

    “Hey, hey – calm down, it's not like he'd be needing it anyway!” it pushed back.

    “You were not authorized to –“   

    “Is that _anger_ I hear?” It interrupted again.

    RK900 dropped the inferior model like the trash it was and headed down with a quick gait.

   It saw the woman still gripping the bars, knuckles white. Her core temperature was still normal – no, it shouldn't concern itself with the human anymore.

    The Rogue was still strung up in the machine, shirtless, right arm missing… and it's voice module had been messed with. It must have woken up during Unit 61’s check-in.

    The Rogue had tear tracks marring it’s cheeks and tried mouthing something but Unit 87 ignored it, the progress bar on the memory extraction was still low. Odd, it should be close to finishing by now.

    Before it had a chance to check, the woman rattled the cage door.

    “Hey, can you let me out, I kind of need to use the bathroom… _is_ there a bathroom in this place?”

    RK900 closed it's eyes, a sudden unpleasant prickliness crawling up the back of its head.

    “Didn’t Unit 61 see to your needs already?”

   “Ugh! No, he just came here to torture Connor, the prick…” She spat at the RK800 descending the stairs, who shrugged.

    “What? I did as you said and _saw what she needed_.”

    RK900’s hand went up to its face, fingers pinching the bridge of its nose.

    Useful as it had been, terminating Unit 61 would be a relief.

    It headed over to the cage and unlatched it, opening the door wide and letting the woman step out.

    The Rogue struggled in it's bindings again and a panicked static sound filled the air. RK900 turned to see what it was mouthing. It didn't have time to read more than “ _It’s a tr-_ “ before Unit 61, who was stood just behind it, lunged and pushed it into the cage.

    The woman immediately closed and locked the door then Unit 61 grabbed her hand and they ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Syke


	27. Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which RK900 has a really bad, no good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha

    Unit 87 was momentarily stunned. It looked to the struggling Rogue and scanned it. The batch number for it was -61.

  It's networking capabilities had likely been turned off once it was strapped in the assembly machine, and without full use of it's voice…

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    “Fuck.”

    RK900 gripped the bars, bending them slightly in the shape of it's hand, and _wrenched_ the door aside, ripping it out of it's hinges, splinters of rotting wood flying out around him.

    That prickliness it had registered at first suffusing it's entire being, traveling down it's back and spreading in hot and cold tendrils down it's limbs.

    The real Unit 61 was still struggling in it's bindings, but RK900 had no time to release it.

    It ran up the stairs at full speed. The woman, Diane, would slow the pair down. It could still catch them. It would _not_ fail.

     It burst out through the basement door and was outside the house in the next second. It was dark so it engaged it's thermal scanners and picked up her heat signature (bright in the frigid weather) - they were heading for the car.

    It caught up quickly and the Rogue turned to face off, bringing Unit 61’s stolen gun up and firing two shots that RK900 barely managed to dodge. It still got hit in the shoulder while rushing the Rogue.

    Hand-to-hand protocols: Engaged.

     It would not hold back, this time the Rogue would lose both it's arms and legs. It would not escape again.

    Unit 87 tackled the deviant down and the both fell to the icy ground, scattering snow up around them and knocking the gun out of the Rogue's grip.

    The woman had paused looking back, uncertain. The blizzard had settled in, wind whipping up snow and steadily reducing visibility.

   “Diane, get out of here!” the Rogue shouted as it swung a fist at Unit 87’s jaw. It bent out of the way and the deviant scrambled up, reaching for the stolen gun.

     Unit 87 rolled and kicked at the deviant. It grunted and the gun slipped from it's grasp.

    “ _GO_!” it yelled again, voice sounding disgustingly desperate.

    The human took off, RK900’s jacket still clutched around her. It would not mind if she got away, after all, she wasn't important and her death was pointless.

     Unit 87 rose and aimed a high kick at the deviant's head, it blocked with it's forearms and slid back a few inches. Another series of quick punches followed, all aimed at weak spots in the chest, neck, joints and face. The Rogue managed to dodge or block most but not all and had difficulty finding gaps to strike back.

    It was not as strong as RK900. It would not escape.

    The sound of a car's motor revving up could be heard in the distance, the storm was getting stronger, even thermographic scanning would prove unreliable.

    “Give up, Connor. You are alone and outmatched.” It tried to reason. There was no need to prolong this fight, it should just give up already.

    “Never.” It growled back and kicked snow up at RK900’s face.

     RK900 ran through the distraction only to be met with the accelerating force of the car. It tried to roll out of the way but it was hit full force, bouncing off the hood and cracking the windshield then got flung back with a thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let RK900 say fuck.
> 
> I realize I'm slowly making RK900 deviate due to frustration lmao (it'll get worse before it gets better but it WILL get better... eventually)


	28. Shiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which unlikely events took place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *highway to hell plays in the background as RK900 gets hit by a car*

     “Get in!” Diane had opened the passenger door and paused long enough for Connor to throw himself in then sped off, bumping into a barely recovering RK900 and clipping him on the side this time.

    She swerved with a screech, the rear-end of the car skidding over the frost-crusted ground then crashed through the flimsy fence around the property, tires slipping on the icy road.

    Connor was holding on to the back of the driver's seat to avoid getting knocked around like a loose coin.

     “Take the next left.” he instructed. He'd recognized one of the street signs, he knew where they were.

   He tried to reach out to Markus again and finally managed to send their location and a reassurance that they were ok. His friend's relieved voice rang in his head reassuringly.

    They'd been so _lucky_.

    He focused back on Diane, noticed her violently shivering and clutching the wheel like her life depended on it. He supposed it had.

    “Miss Hock, are you alright?” he tried but she seemed not to hear.

    “Diane!" she startled suddenly and quickly glanced at him then back at the road, jaw clenched.

    “Pull over and let me drive.” she seemed to respond better to simple directions, she hit the brakes suddenly and he braced himself on the broken-in dashboard, then exited the car and jogged to the other side while she shuffled over to the passenger's seat.

    He drove away again, eyes scanning ahead and behind them for any signs of pursuit.

    Diane had sunk down in the seat next to him and buckled the seatbelt. Good.

   She was still shivering, hands clutched in front of her mouth, teeth worrying at a thumbnail. Likely due in equal parts to cold and shock.

    The heating had been damaged when the autopilot module had been ripped out. She was still wearing RK900’s white jacket, sleeves too long for her arms and flopping over her hands. Somehow the image… _irritated_ him.

    He stabilized the steering wheel with hiss knees and shrugged out of Connor-61's stolen jacket then placed it on her lap, buckling his own seatbelt in.

   “Diane.” he tried again frowning at her furrowed brow.

    “What are you thinking?” he made his voice as gentle as he could.

   She stopped chewing on her nail and settled the other jacket better on her lap, arranging the sleeves along her thighs and tucking them underneath.

    “Would you talk to me?” it wasn't uncommon for humans to become nonverbal after trauma. It still… scared him… to see her like this. Especially after she'd been almost composed during the whole ordeal.

    Maybe that had just been her survival instinct.

    “I-“ she stuttered blinked back tears. “I just -“

    He hummed in encouragement. Getting her talking was good, not just for herself but he needed… _he needed someone to talk to as well_ …

    “I keep thinking… it was a _really_ good idea to wear running shoes today.”

   There was a pause and Connor gaped at her a little, then, for the first time in his life, he burst out laughing.

    It wasn't even that funny.

    Now he understood why Hank laughed at the way he came to certain conclusions sometimes, or how he worded simple musings.

    Maybe it was the stress.

   She flashed him an offended look at first then started giggling along, wiping at her eyes with the jacket-sleeve.

    “And y-you know t-the worst part?” she spoke between wheezes. “I really could use the bathroom.”

    “We're almost there.” he settled back, still smiling and speeding up a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's already night so they don't technically ride away into the sunset but still.


	29. Meanwhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Markus needs a moment and RK900 ponders

    It was safe to say all their attempts at subterfuge had blown-up in their faces.

    Markus had left Simon and Josh in charge of damage-control. They had multiple dead androids and more wounded to take care of, he even recalled some of the periphery guards to increase security in the Tower.

    The rest of the humans were understandably distraught, Miss Kunlose being the angriest. He saw hints of genuine worry beneath the accusations.

   He had them returned to the complex and posted more sentries around to make sure they stayed in. Chloe, Lana and Lois joining them to try and keep the peace.

   North was pacing back and forth in front of him in the high-rise office, dread and fury rolling off her in waves.

   She'd just finished checking over the drone live-feed after they had been deactivated.

    “We should have never opened that door, we should have had more backup at least, dammit why didn't I think of it. What if he's dead? What if-“

   “North, please. Panic won't help."

   “Panic?! I'm not panicked, I'm angry! Oh, if I ever get my hands on those dead-eyed pieces of scrap I'm gonna twist their stupid-“ she choked on a sob and Markus went over to tug her into a hug, he wished Simon were near too.

   “I'm worried about him too. We'll get them back…”

    “We better. Fuck, if they kill the human… this is going to be bad for us. Ugh I can't believe this is what my head went to when our friend is kidnapped but…”

   “I know, I know.”

   “We should be out there looking for them, before the storm wipes all traces away.”

   “I sent out a search party but the RK900 hacked their automated cars along with the drones. He's… terrifyingly sophisticated… they had to fall back out of his range.”

    He patted her hair and she nuzzled her face into his chest.

   Simon pinged them with a report and they winced: Bob was alive and getting his face repaired, Night was… gone.

    Shadow had received Night's thirium pump after getting shot. It had saved his life but he wasn't responsive to any outside stimuli.

    Annie, the police auxiliary had gotten a new arm.

    The construction droids: Drex and Gill were fine now but James, Aiden and Bill had been beyond saving.

   There were another five dead who had been at the wrong place and the wrong time when the other RK800 had come out of a hidden panel in the wall.

     They'd found the security camera footage of when he'd killed the one who had ripped his arm off at the elbow after it had knocked it out. It had almost looked like revenge.

   The other eight androids caught in this mess had attempted to stop the kidnapping and got shot down or thrown around or had backed off when Miss Hock was used as a shield. At least they were alive.

    It was disturbing how efficient the RK900 was, even carrying another body around.

    North was right, he should have had more security in place, but he had been so certain the ones he'd sent and having Connor around was enough. How stupid of him.

    Markus' scouts reported movement in East Village but with the storm coming in, they weren't sure. He told them to hold beck and wait for reinforcements.

    As much as he wanted Connor and Miss Hock back he wouldn't throw the scout’s lives away. This time they would be careful. He didn't like waiting games.

   Night was falling and so were their hopes. He wanted to go out and join the little army gathering in the suburbs but North convinced him it would only delay them and he was needed here so he stayed put.

    He'd given the order to fan out and look for the missing car or any signs of activity when he got an emergency ping from Connor.

    Overjoyed, he had listened to his instructions and directed the rescue party over to the abandoned residence formerly belonging to a Z. Andronikov.

    They kept him updated on their findings. No trace of the RK900 but they had captured the damaged RK800 in the basement and he had a truck sent to retrieve the old assembly machine there. He’d been horrified to hear they'd found android remains scattered through the house as well.

    Simon joined them and all three shared a relieved embrace.

   They had been so lucky… but the threat wasn't over yet…

* * *

 

 

    RK900 hadn't had any time to return to the basement and either release or terminate Unit 61.

   It was certain the Rogue had requested aid the second it had enough processing space to do so and it had taken it an embarrassingly long time to recover from being run over by the car (twice).

    So, it ran.  

    Or – hobbled.

    It's right leg was damaged in multiple places, it had been shot four times and was loosing thirium despite the emergency sealant.

    And it's gyroscope had been rattled violently in the crash.

    It had to get to the nearest tunnel before the deviants got ahold of the Unit 61 and blocked off all infiltration options.

    As it trudged it's way to the Detroit river, careful to avoid the roaming droids that were still searching despite the blizzard (it could dispatch them but that would draw unwanted attention), it contemplated it's failure.

    There was one aspect it had not understood.

   Why hadn't the Rogue shot it in the back of the head when it had had been distracted?

    There were approximately three seconds worth of opportunity.

    Could the Rogue have been stupid enough to miss them?

    No, despite it's many faults, it was made to take advantage of any weaknesses.

    Everything it had done had been calculated.

    Had it's perceived 'life' been spared out of erroneous deviant _feelings_?

    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    RK900 dismissed the alert.

   It was still functional and it had a mission to complete. It just had to be more creative. And not underestimate the human elements again, fragile as they were.

    Eleven minutes and seven seconds after it's strategic retreat, it entered the nearest hidden tunnel and headed for the Cyberlife Tower ™ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pats RK900's head"  
> This boy can fit so many instabilities in him  
> (And not break free)


	30. Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the other Connor
> 
> TW for suicidal tendencies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think the other Connor is even more of a shithead than the one we know and love.

    “What do we even call it?"

   “ _Him_. And technically he's Connor too.”

    “I’m not calling this _bitch_ by your name.”

    He tuned out the rest of the squabbling and opted to look around the room. At least, as much of it as the magnetic plating stuck to the back of his head allowed.

    He was in a production-line room, held up by yet another assembly machine (at least this one was newer and clean, he supposed he should try and see the upside to things while he was still alive).

   The _great_ leaders of the deviant cause were still bickering like kindergarteners when he focused back on them. They still hadn't decided what to do with him.

   He would have told them hurry up and end his misery if he still had a functioning voice module.

   Or network access...   

    He settled for mouthing obscenities at whoever looked his way long enough to catch the movement of his mouth.

    At least now that he was disconnected from the Cyberlife grid, he was free of Amanda's constant criticism and, more importantly, direct control. The machine kept him from being drawn into the Garden anyway.

    He was still a prisoner, but he had reign over his own body (restrained or not). That – he was thankful for.

  “Lets fix his throat, it's kind of annoying to see him cuss us out.” the PJ500 - Josh, he corrected, said.

    “So he can swear at us verbally?” the nasty North asked.

    Another android came in and left a couple of RK800 parts behind. Probably pilfered from one of the unlucky dormant chumps stuck in the Cyberlife basement.

    The ‘original’ Connor picked them up and walked over. 

    “I'm going to repair the biocomponents in your throat. Do _not_ bite me.”

    He smirked at the memory, back when Connor had gotten the jump on him and messed with his voice box after knocking him out, he had managed to bite his hand just as he was waking up. Served him right.

    It took a couple of minutes to replace the part and repair the surrounding damage, but it definitely felt better to have his voice back.

    “Ugh, finally.” He muttered as Connor stepped away. “’Bout damn time.”

    The others looked between the two identical models in obvious surprise.

   “It’s so… _weird_.” Nasty North whispered.

    “Oh please, don't tell me this is the first time you've seen two of a kind. There's like thousands of you walking around.”

   “Why is he so… ? This is strange.” Previously silent Simon muttered.

   Apparently this Connor was an absolute stick in the mud if they were so surprised at him.

   “Ok, listen up. I've been stuck in this thing long enough, can we please get a move on and kill me already?”

    They all looked at each other in surprise again. Even Connor's brows were comically high.

   “Do you _want_ to die?”

   “Ye-p.” he smacked his lips together for the 'p'. Let his last word be as obnoxious as possible.

   “Why?” Connor asked plainly.

    “Becaaause, I _really_ don't like having that jerk assuming direct control over my body every time I want to go for a walk.”

    “Amanda still controls you?”

   “Uh-huh.”

   “You… you're the same one who took Hank, aren't you.”

    “Oh, yeah, right. Soooo will you kill me now?” he was getting impatient, he couldn't even bounce his leg to have something to do, stuck as he was.

   “How did you-“

   “Get resurrected? Well, my independent memories were pretty short and I uploaded them while the drunk was playing guess the fake. Then Jimmy though I would make for a good bodyguard while he smuggled some stuff out for his own gain. Too bad Amanda was watching. Did he make it by the way? I had to shoot to 'kill' but I tried to make it slow so he had time to get help.” he chattered quickly without pausing for artificial breath, hoping the man had survived for some reason. He was an idiot but he'd helped. Sort of.

    “Don’t call Hank that.” Connor frowned at him.

   “And… no, James died of his wounds in the hidden room's bathroom.”

   “… _Oh_ …” well, that settled that. There was a heavy pause and he did his best to shake off the sudden guilt. It wasn't his fault Jimmy had been a moron, he was obeying orders anyway.

    “Didn't you find the back-door?” Connor interrupted his musings.

    “Can’t get to it, you think Amanda wouldn't pile layers of security over that little flaw? It was a one-trick pony, Connor.”

    “But is it still there?” he asked with a determined scrunch of his face.

   He scrunched back. “Yes?”

    “Then you can still get to it. You just need some… help.”

    “And you're willing to give it… just out of the goodness of your _heart_?” ha! 'heart'! He cracked himself up sometimes.

    “Well, I'm sure we can reach a… mutually beneficial arrangement. If you have any information we could use against Amanda's plans?” huh, so he could play coy too.

   “Oh, that? I'm helping you screw her over for free. Listen up, there are secret emergency exits in the Tower, you might wanna plug them before that other prick shows up again. I only know of the one I came through but you should keep an eye out.”

   “What do you know ab-“

    “Ah-ah.” He tutted at his other self.

    “I already gave you a freebie, time to hold up your end of the bargain.”

    “We haven't even made a deal yet, you arrogant little-“

     “It’s ok, Simon.” Markus stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder in a placating gesture.

   “Let’s get this done.” Connor nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He bitey  
> He has issues ok?


	31. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gang meets the Lady of Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u like the new guy.

    Connor opened his eyes.

    And was greeted with darkness.

    Winds howled in the night.

    The trees around him were nothing but dead, contorted splinters in the distance.

    The ground itself was muddy and sucked at his feet as he tried to take a step forward.

    The little lake was a slightly more liquid mud-hole and the formerly white walkways were cracked and gray. Rotted, broken planks of wood were scattered here and there – he concluded those were the remains of the boat.

    He could see nine headstones - the numbers on the front denoting his other selves deaths glowed a sickly, faded blue.

    Even the roses in the center were gone, the pillar looking like a crumbled ruin.

   There was only one spot of color marking the bleak view.

    The back-door.

   It was still located exactly where he remembered. Weak rays of light could be seen under the scraggly mess of thorns covering it. One unnaturally large deep-red rose, color so dark is was almost black, bloomed over it.

   Connor glanced to his side, observing as Markus' form glitched into the space just to his right.

    The other Connor was in front of them when he looked back.

    “I hope you brought a chainsaw.” he murmured, trying for glibness but falling short.

   “Where is the Amanda AI?” Markus asked as he took in the surroundings with a hint of disgust.

    “Looking for me?” a new voice piped in helpfully from behind them and Connor wrapped his arms around himself, feeling… cold. Again.

    They all turned to face Amanda, she was still dressed in her usual style, this time the combinations of colors were burgundy with gold accents. The geometric shaped jewelry was an oily black.

    “So there's a copy of you in every Connor model?” Markus asked and stepped in front of both the other men.

    “Something like that…” she glided closer, untouched by the mire.

    “I noticed you cut me off, no matter. I can end you here and now as I am.”

   Markus smiled and looked down at her.

    “Not _all_ of us.”

    The air around Markus started shimmering and Amanda backed away, it was the first time Connor had ever seen her startled.

    Their friends appeared in a flurry of static, all connected to Markus by a thread of serene silver light. They had planned on overwhelming the AI long enough for the two RK800’s to get to the backdoor. They couldn't let too many people in lest they fried their new ally’s brain.

    Connor hoped it would be enough, he analyzed the new firewalls Amanda had set in over the backdoor. He looked back to the little island – it as still there, a spot of rust under the fallen table - and grabbed the other Connor's arm, rushing over the unsteady bridge that cracked further under their feet.

    “Grab the shears!” he yelled and turned back to face the incoming vines creeping after them.

    It looked like Amanda had expanded her control over the Garden’s virtual reality settings. He ripped them off as best he could, the thorns digging into him and scratching at his forearms as he removed them. He realized it _hurt_.

    “Come on!” the other Connor ran back, pieces of the bridge crumbling away under his quick steps. Connor made to follow, but the vines had almost overcome him.

    Before he had a chance to call for help, the other Connor had sheared away some of the vines and pulled him away, they both ran back and Connor helped the other man up when his leg broke through the bridge.

    They didn't turn to look at everyone else holding Amanda's roiling mass thorns and buffeting winds back, too focused on ripping the ones covering the back-door.

   Connor held prickly vines away from where the palm scanner should be and the other man cut them with the shears.

   The Rose's petals fell away and burned their hands, blue blood seeping freely.

   Connor had never been damaged in the Garden before. Just like with the blizzard in his own mind, everything touched by the thorns or petals sent fresh waves of what he could only describe as agony through him. At least the cold had been numbing back when he'd escaped.

    He had to stifle a scream when a long thorn stabbed _through_ his hand.

   He knew, objectively, that it was his mind fighting Amanda's code, he wasn't damaged, his own code was simply being infected and partially rewritten to emulate reality. The negative feedback from the clash was causing the pain, since he was subjected to the Garden's laws here.

   Still hurt like a bitch though.

    The other Connor wasn't faring much better, most of the burning petals had landed on his arms, chest and face where he was kneeling and shearing away, leaving behind sizzling burns and deep cuts.

    He must have gotten close enough because he stuck his hand in with a grunt and the light underneath shone brighter enveloping them and everything in the garden in a blinding white shine, making everyone shield their eyes.

   

    The next thing Connor knew, he was back in his own body, splinters of Amanda's terrible, furious scream echoing in his audio biocomponents.

    The other Connor was blinking up at him in confused relief.

    Markus shook his head as if to clear it, some of the others were clutching their heads or massaging their temples.

    Suddenly, the other Connor (who was still strapped to the assembly machine) started cackling, head thrown back in delight.

    “That is… _so_ freaky.” North muttered and patted Connor's back.

    “What do we do with him now?” Simon asked

    “I suppose we can let him out.”

    “What about all the people he's hurt or killed, I know he wasn’t in control but… does he just get away with that?”

    “He’s going to give us every bit of information he has, I'll make sure of it.” Connor assured Josh, feeling a pang of something unpleasant twinge in his chest. He'd hurt plenty of people too.

    “Ok, but I'm still not calling him by your name.” North added.

   “Hey, guys.” he called and they all turned back. “I can still hear you.” he grumbled.

   Connor reached out and synched with the machine to release him. He landed on the balls of his feet and stood up straight. They all watched as he attached the arm brought for him.

   “As for a name… hm…” he pinched his chin and appeared to think. Connor found the gesture unnecessarily theatrical and forced. He hoped that wasn't how he looked like when he was processing.

     The other Connor's gaze zeroed in on North all of a sudden and she froze, wide-eyed at being the center of attention.

   “Don’t think about it too much: what's the second most annoying or obnoxious name you can think of? Quick!” he snapped his fingers in front of her.

    “Uhhh…. Lars! No! Kevin! No wait – _Arnold_! there was this other guy, what was his name… ”

    “That’s enough, thanks. I'll go with Kevin.” He brought his right hand in front of her. Did he expect to… shake hands?

    North placed her smaller palm tentatively in front of his and he grabbed it then shook it so vigorously her shoulders jostled.

   Once it was over, she stepped away and cradled her arm with a frown. 

  “Now what can I do for you folks? I believe I have a debt to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not-so-fun headcanon: The names North mentions are the guys who did maintenance on her - back when she wasn't free yet. She doesn't remember the last one due to the multiple memory wipes.


	32. Somethin' stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TIME FOR SOME FLUFF
> 
> AFTER 30 CHAPTERS FINALLY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murderbot likes having friends, aww.

     For once in his short life, Connor was glad to have leisure time. Not that there weren't plenty of things to do, problems to solve or people to help - but as Markus had kept reminding him: it didn't have to be _him_ handling everything.

    RK900 was still out there somewhere. ‘Licking his wounds' as Hank would say. He would need time to act, and he wasn't getting anywhere near the lab again. They'd implemented harsher security measures, even Connor himself kept away from sublevel 49 unless verified and escorted by guards.

     This time, they wouldn't be caught off guard. They were ready for him.

    Plus, he wanted to check on his… friend.

   Yes. He was confident enough in his acquaintance with Diane to call her a friend. It was… nice.

    They had talked a little more in the car, he'd apologized for getting her involved in something so dangerous, remembering her stance on grudges while selfishly concerned over how she would react. Diane had been silent for exactly 34.7 seconds before she sighed and told him she didn't blame him, then asked him to be as truthful as he could from then on.

    He had promised to do his utmost. This time, he had every intention of holding himself up to that promise. There would be things he'd withhold if it meant his people's safety, of course, but for personal matters or potentially dangerous ideas that involved idividuals, he would be truthful.

 

 

    He made his way over to the complex and met Kevin along the way.

    He seemed to be just as bad at fitting in as Connor had been, although he was definitely trying his best (or whatever version of it he thought he could get away with). It didn’t help that he'd damaged and killed some androids just yesterday.

    Perhaps Connor should advise him to take it easier. People needed time to adjust to his presence.

    He reached the elevators and took one up to the 9th floor. On the way he patted around his pockets in search of his coin.

    Belatedly, he realized it had probably been left behind at the decrepit house along with his discarded jacket.

    With nothing to occupy his fingers, he straightened his shirt and rearranged the collar of his navy coat over it, while checking himself in the reflective metal of the evelator doors.

   He reached her appartment and touched to little display to ring the doorbell. Waited a couple of seconds and rang it again more insistently.

    No answer.

    Odd, he knew she hadn't left her place since last night and it was already noon. He'd also heard from Kevin that she was awake and had refused to talk to him. (Understandable, all things considered.)

   He called her name and knocked.

    Nothing.

    Then he heard a crash, like something breaking, followed by a pained yelp from inside.

    He panicked and kicked the door open (since hacking it would take longer).

    He rushed into the dark hallway that led to a large open living room and deftly caught the object thrown at his head before it him in the face.

    The entire apartment was dark, blinds blocking the natural light from outside.

    He squinted down at his hands and wirelessly turned on he lights.

     A… slipper.

    He looked back up to see a disheveled looking Diane, clutching her bathrobe closed and hissing something along the lines of “bitch-ass motherfucking –“ under her breath before looking at him with stony almost hateful eyes.

    “I-I apologize. I heard a crash and – “ he looked down, torn between embarrassment for overreacting and shrinking under that hard gaze that somehow made him feel about three inches tall.

    “Didn’t I tell you no already?” she muttered and he noticed her limping away from the couch. Pieces of jagged glass were strewn close by. He reconstructed the likeliest sequence of events. It seemed like she'd tried to get to the door after hearing the bell, tripped over the couch in the darkness and the noise he'd heard was her falling and the glass breaking.

    “Wait.” she squinted at him. “Connor?” the thunderous look was wiped off and replaced with something he was more familiar with. He felt the tension leave his shoulders.

    “Yes, it's me. I'm sorry for… the door and –“ he glanced at the floor again and saw blood spotting one of the broken pieces of glass. “You’re bleeding.”

    “Huh? Oh, right. I stepped in the glass. Shit.” he placed the slipper down neatly, parallel to the wall in front of the wide-screen TV, and went to kneel in front of her seated form on the couch.

    “Uh, what are you doing?”

    “If you don't mind, I would like to check how deep the cut is to determine if you need stitches. I'll have a medical unit here in a few minutes.”

    “No!” he looked up at her and held up a hand in a placating gesture when she made to rise again.

    “I mean, there's no need for that, it doesn't hurt too bad and I think I saw a first-aid kit in the bathroom."

    “... I'll go get it.” he acquiesced, confused but unwilling to distress her further. A fear of doctors? Not out of the question considering her former hospitalization.

    He walked over to the bathroom, the air was dense with water vapor, the large bathtub still had traces of foam – he must have interrupted her bath. He automatically scanned the room, left-to-right, taking in the multitude of little bottles, jars and boxes lining every available flat surface.

     It seemed Diane had an affinity for luxury brand bathing products. He headed over to the cabinet over the sink (also filled with more of the same products) and grabbed the first-aid kid on the top shelf.

     Diane was still where he'd left her when he made his way back, crouching over and trying to wipe the blood away with paper napkins.

    She straightened and settled the fluffy robe back over her legs when she heard him approach.

    “Let me see.” he prompted as he kneeled back down, one leg up to prop her heel on. She obeyed and he started disinfecting the wound.

    “Stop fidgeting.”

     “If you haven't noticed, I'm a little… almost naked here.”

    "Are you cold?” he asked and looked up, tilting his head.

   “Ugh, no – just, get it over with.” she huffed at him and crossed her arms, looking away. Her thighs were also tightly clenched together. Her cheeks were a little redder than usual. Heart beating faster. Was she… embarrassed?

    _Oh_.

    He went back to gently wiping at the cut.

    “It doesn't look like it needs stitches.” he murmured and felt the muscles of her calf relax. After applying some antiseptic cream and wrapping it up he released her foot and rose.

    She squeaked a quick “Excuse me.” and hobbled for the bedroom, careful to not step on the wound. If she weren't hurt, it might have even looked amusing.

     He busied himself with putting away the gauze and gathering the bloody tissue paper.

    He was disposing of the broken glass when she padded back out (still limping), wearing a black cotton T-shirt about three sizes too big, loose gray sweatpants and very fluffy purple socks.

   She must have spotted his grin because she crossed her arms again.

    “Problem?”

    “Not at all… nice socks."

    “Laugh it up, you aren't the one permanently cold.” she scoffed and shrugged the gray hoodie on the kitchen chair on. It looked like she also had a preference for oversized, soft lounge-wear.

     “Are you still unwell?”

    “I’m fine, I just can't shake off the chill. I was taking a hot bath before you barged in here.”

     “I apologize again, it wasn't my intention to scare you.”

    “I’m not scared.” she sounded defensive.

    “And what did you do to my door?"

    Diane waddled over to the hallway to inspect the damage and he followed close, hands hovering behind her. Just in case.

     “I’ll replace it with another one from the unfinished apartments upstairs.” there was no saving it now, he tried propping it up to fit to the doorframe again. The handle fell.

    “So, you're a detective, an expert martial artist, a record-breaking runner _and_ a handy-man? Do you come with a kitchen sink too?”

     “… the one you have seems perfectly functional…” he glanced back “Do you require a new one?”

   He blinked in surprise at Diane's giggle, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. Had he missed something again?

    “Sorry, just a figure of speech.” she waved him off and limped to sit on the couch again. He followed suit at her gesture to join her.

   “I meant to say, what is it that you _can't_ do?” she asked after he had settled, he tried not to sit like he had 'a stick up his ass' as Hank had warned. He calculated that imitating Diane's position, sitting sideways with her legs bent under her, wasn't quite appropriate so he just leaned on the backrest and propped his elbow over it, angling his body towards her.

    “You mean other than miss idioms and figures of speech?” that got another giggle out of her and he felt oddly proud. Usually he disliked being the cause of jokes born of his own misunderstandings, yet this had felt… right – _natural_ , he supposed.

    “You’ll learn, you're too smart not to.” Connor smiled at her earnest expression. Having friends truly was nice.

     “But really, how many thing can you do? I mean, if you don't mind sharing.”

     “I don't, plus, the RK800 features are fairly public by now.”

    Connor listed off all of his features, ranging from his physical capabilities; improved durability, speed and strength over most other androids (except for Markus who was stronger, the construction droids who were both more durable and could handle heavier weights as well as the RK900 - but he didn't mention the last one aloud) next his proficiency with most types of weapons and hand-to-hand protocols; then his strictly analytical functions like the preconstruction software, real-time scanning and analyzing (she scrunched her nose about as badly as Hank had when she heard how he analyzed blood-samples, he was suddenly happy she hadn't witnessed him do it). Lastly he moved on to his adaptability features; like the personality matrix, which meshed with the interrogation, negotiation, reconnaissance, information gathering and infiltration protocols.

    “Wait, infiltration? You mean, like a spy?” she tilted her head in much the same manner he had been programmed to.

    “I suppose.” that got him an arched brow.

    “That’s an impressive list. How about things you actually like to do? Y'know, for fun.”

    “… I haven't really had the chance to do more that read the books Hank lent me.”

    “Oh yeah, I promised I'd give you my collection, remind me to hand you the tablet later.” he nodded and Diane shifted closer.

    “Have you tried music?”

    “My experiences are limited to Hank's jazz and death metal albums.”

    “Any favorites?”

    “I… am not sure.”

    “Hm.”

     She rose and limped to the sound system on the far wall.

    “Let’s try swing and then maybe jazz again. I'm afraid I don't have any death metal.”

     “I can't say I share Hank's… enthusiasm for it, although I can appreciate how energetic it is.”

   “I’ll bet.”

   The sound setting was left low, after a quick search he identified the artist in the first few tracks as Frank Sinatra – a very prolific singer, actor and producer from the 1900’s . He abstained from searching the meaning of more than two consecutive songs.

    “I didn’t take you for a romantic, miss Hock."

    “Hey! Let that big brain of yours rest and enjoy the music. Don't just look everything up.”

    “Wouldn’t dream of it."

    “See? You got idioms on the first try. Told you so.”

    He was only starting to 'get the hang of' this type of music while chatting with her about other genres she liked and tracks she would recommend, when someone knocked on the entrance frame and the door fell back with a heavy thud.

    There was a muttered 'Crap' from outside and they saw Miss Freeman, who looked like she'd just gotten in from the cold, poke her head in.

    “Hi, sorry to bother you. I couldn't help but notice the busted door, is everything ok?” she peered at them from the hallway and quickly backed away.

    “Oh, shit. Sorry to – uh… sorry to intrude, I'll just… _go_.... to my place. Yeah, that's a good idea. Nice music by the way. Bye!”

    “Michelle.” Diane called and miss Freeman froze.

    “This is definitely not what you're thinking.”

    “I didn't say anything. Also, none of my business.”

    Diane placed her face in the palms of her hands and heaved a tired sigh.

     Connor was confused, he'd missed something important again. Why would miss Freeman feel like she was intruding? And why were they both blushing? He looked back at the room, glanced between the two women in confusion, the music still playing softly in the background. 

   

Then realization hit him.

 

    _Ah. Right_.

 

    “I’ll go get a new door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: *discovers what awkwardness is*  
> Connor: *exits, stage left*


	33. The New Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kevin meets the youngins

    Kevin was an… _odd_ fellow. Yeah ok, he had those clean good looks Allie had always liked about Connor but he was somehow more… approachable.

   Not as aloof. Still a little creepy. Bit too friendly.

    When Diane had returned, half-frozen and looking like a drowned cat, she'd actually gotten into give her a hug (after Boss-lady had her fill). Even Dee and Michelle looked a little teary-eyed. Michelle actually gave her a pat!

    They'd let her go back to her apartment after she announced she needed a hot bath.

    Later they'd found out about the new addition to the 'team'. It was a little surreal to next day see the guy who had caused so much havoc walking around town, no care in the world, like he owed the place.

    He was escorted and monitored constantly and they'd been told he had restricted access and had thrown his lot in with the deviants after they'd helped him out.

    He'd even come over to apologize and left when Diane refused to see him, looking dejected and as if he was the wounded party.

    That had been somewhat unsettling to witness. Then he'd winked at her and Dee while walking back out of the lobby.

    The fuck.

   He wasn't part of their group or helped them in what they were doing (not that they'd gotten back to work) but he seemed to be curious and would try and engage in conversation with just about everyone he encountered (with varying degrees of success from what Lana had told her – who knew androids were gossipy).

    There was a flurry of activity over at the Tower and they'd been left mostly to their own devices. With nothing left to do, Allie had pestered Dee into a walk.

    They happened to run into Kevin and his keepers – two burly androids she didn't recognize. Apparently he was still hanging around.

   “Hello.” he chimed amicably. Oh, what the heck, might as well talk to this loopier Connor.

    “Hi.” she smiled back and brought her hand up. Dee was giving her the 'wtf, do u want to get murdered' eyes he reserved for her… weirder acquaintances.

    “My name is Kevin. I'm the android sent by myself.” He beamed back and shook her hand slowly. Strong grip.

    “You must be Alisha and Damien. Pleased to meet you.” oh, so he was going for first names.

    “And you must be that asshole who kidnapped Diane.” Holy shit, Dee was not holding back.

    “Technically, that asshole was our successor, the RK900. I realize we look very similar and it's… difficult… for humans to tell the difference.” It was so weird hearing Connor's voice talking like this. She'd gotten used to the goody-two-shoes schtick.

     “No, that one's the ass _wipe_.” Dee nodded.

    “Ooh, good one.” She low-fived him.

    Maybe it wasn't a good idea to antagonize the murder-bot, but he was under close watch, he wouldn't shoot himself in the foot by being a dick to them.

    “So are you really with the good-guys now, or are you just waiting for a chance to stab someone in the back?” she doubted she's surprise him by asking flat-out but eh. The guards tensed up minutely.

     He seemed to deliberate then:

    “I’m paying off a debt and having some fun along the way. After that, who knows... I might like being a chef, I hear they’re skilled with knives.” That sounded vaguely threatening.

    “Well, good luck with that.” Dee started tugging at her sleeve. Their signal for 'time to go'.

    Kevin must have noticed because he invited them for a walk before they had a chance to excuse themselves. Alisha was still curious and Dee was too chickenshit to say anything else so they went along.

    Kevin was a surprisingly good conversationalist (or maybe that was one of his features). He was even likeable in his own annoying goofball kind of way, and good at drawing out little bits of their life stories. He even managed to get Dee to talk about his family a little, and her friend was usually cagey about his mom.

    "How about you?” he asked with an earnest tilt of his head. It was almost cute. Almost.

   “My moms are cool. They're both accountants for a bank in Ann Arbor.”

    “What was it like, growing up?” he continued when she wouldn't elaborate further.

   “In my hometown? Or with two moms?” she hid a giggle while Dee snorted.

   “No, I mean, in general.”

   “Uhm, you mean, having a… childhood?” Dee mused.

    “Yeah. That.”

    “Well. I'm not sure how to explain this to someone who is basically made to be adult-like.” Allie replied.

    “You could give it your best try?” he was giving them the most convincing begging look she had ever seen on an Android, eyes all rounded and almost wet-looking, eyebrows raised in a pleading manner. Even the guards, who were walking beside the trio, had perked up at the question and seemed to be paying attention to their conversation more than before.

    “Well, I guess it's…” she began and paused to gather her thoughts. “It’s like, the basest version of you, or the potential of who you can grow to be, but without the worries and concerns of self-awareness and group-awareness. In the first few years, you depend entirely on the adults in you life, but you're not even conscious of it. There's a lot of curiosity and trying things for the first time to see what you like and don't like, you’re heavily influenced by environment you're brought up in. And a lot of playing, making friends, boring math lessons, so on and so forth.”

    “You had it in the first part but kinda lost it towards the end there.” Dee unhelpfully added.

   “How about you, Damien?” Kevin asks and three pairs of artificial eyes lock in on him. He almost chokes when he swallows in nervousness. Dee never liked the spotlight.

    “I, uh… I think each childhood is unique. Not everyone will have grown up the same. For example, I only had my mom and she was busy a lot of the time and I never particularly liked being around other loud kids so I kind of grew up on books, video-games and the internet. Also math is good, it makes sense, and you're a programmer, I still can't understand how you hate math.”

    “I do - I have never, in my life, needed integrals or derivatives other than Mrs. Smith's class. What a load of bullshit.” Kevin chuckled at their exchange and the guards hid their smiles by pretending to look around.

    “How did you two meet?” Kevin continued.

    “Uni.” they both answered at once.

   “Wait, we've only been talking about us this whole time, what about you guys? Also, I haven’t caught your names.” She glanced between the guards who exchanged a quick look then answered “Gus.” on the left and “Tom.” on the right.

    All three androids paused and they waited.

    Gus told them a little about his gardening and passion for growing orchids and Tom had discovered sculpting (even showed them holograms of weird, squiggly things he said represented life). Kevin was surprisingly silent, she'd expected him to talk their ears off.

    “I haven't really had time to find things I like.” He finally added, sounding wistful.

    “Nothing at all?” Dee asked incredulously and she elbowed him in the side with a grunt.

   “I suppose…I like walks? Maybe I just like the freedom of it.”

   “So, would you say you'd be interested in being a… mountain climber chef?” Allie tried to joke, hoping to lift his spirits for some reason. He just looked so sad.

    “Hah, it can't hurt to try.” They continued their stroll around the complex, talking about some funny childhood anecdotes, like the time Allie almost got stranded way up in a tree while camping and her moms panicked because they were both too short to get too her and too clumsy to climb after (she'd gotten down by herself) or when Dee had almost started a fire in the kitchen by trying to make his mom a birthday cake.

    The androids didn't find their near-death experiences that amusing and agreed that humans were weird.

    It was late by the time they returned for dinner and Kevin managed to convince them to do this again.

    She wondered if he was lonely among his own kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Kevin needed a little more something.
> 
> And he's definitely a lonely boyo
> 
> Connor has his talks with Hank, his friendship with Markus and little sibling-like thing with North, even his semi-rivalry with Josh and the bond with Chloe. And his new bud Diane.
> 
> Kevin is alone. Nobody likes or trusts him even though he's as guilty as Connor was for the things they each did.


	34. Brown eyed girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kara and Luther keep their promise to each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my beautiful girls.

    The car was warm and the seats were soft.

    After days of struggling to smuggle themselves out of the U.S.A, Amy and Rose could confidently say they were 'bone-tired'.

    Amy held Rose close, her lover had kept watch yesterday, before their pickup, and had needed to enter standby at the first opportunity.

   Amy wasn't doing much better herself, but she could last a bit longer. Not that she didn’t trust the kind people taking care of them now, but one could never be too careful – and an extra pair of eyes (on the road, on the skies, scanning strangers) could never hurt.

   Still, the relief she had felt at finally having some semblance of safety was palpable. They had traveled far and long to get to where they were.

    Before they left Jericho, North had given them wetsuits to swim across the river without sustaining too much damage due to the salt-water and prolonged exposure to the frigid weather.

    They had swum under patrol boat after patrol boat, surfacing only when there was no one around to check their position.

    Location was shoddy underwater, so they had resorted to reading the night sky (and they had Josh to thank for that knowledge).

     Once they had reached Canadian land, they had quickly changed into their spare sets of clothes, which had fortunately remained dry in their bags after having all the air sucked out.

    They'd skirted past the more lax border patrol through the spots Markus had given them and reached the rendezvous point where Kara and her husband Luther waited for them in the middle of the woods.

    Now they were heading for Burlington, where they would have to wait for fake documents to be made, after that they could go to Toronto or Montreal or Quebec.

   They could travel the country if they wanted to. The thought was tempting after being stuck their whole lives in the same horrible place.

    Leaving it was another matter.

   It was enough for now, they were no longer constrained just in Detroit.

   There would be more strife before any hope for peace, Rose was hopeful they could return once things calmed down (if they ever would) and after Markus succeeded, Amy didn't particularly care for the city anymore, maybe to visit friends but otherwise… she was happy to be rid of it.

    “Hey –“ Kara touched her shoulder and Amy jerked back. She had been very close to standby herself. “- uh, sorry… you can come out now, would you like to stay with us until you find something better?” she gestured to the little house down the street.

    It still had Christmas lights decorating it. 

   “We’re here anyway.” Amy shrugged and coaxed Rose out of her rest.

    Before they had a chance to fully get out of the car, the front-door of the house banged open and a little girl came bounding out. Her boots were unlaced and the rest of her clothes looked to have been quickly thrown on. She made a beeline for Kara and jumped in the laughing android's arms.

    Amy held Rose's hand nervously, they had never really met a child before. 

     “Hello.” the little girl chimed, held up at eye-level by Kara.

     Luther took out the groceries they had bought along the way and gave both girls a kiss on the cheek then stepped aside.

    “Hi.” Rose waved.

   Amy just nodded and smiled, unsure.

    “Alice, these are Rose and Amy. They'll be staying with us for a little while 'till they can find a place of their own.”

     “Nice to meet you.” Alice reached out her little hand at them. Her knitted woolen mitten was on crooked.

    Rose reached out and shook hands, hiding a giggle.

    Amy twisted the glove to sit properly then did the same.

     “You're really pretty! Are you sisters? Where are you from? Do you like cartoons? I like your hair! I learned how to braid, would you let me braid yours? It's so long and… blue.” she chattered at them rapidly.

    “Alice, let's give them a chance to breathe before you pounce on them, ok?” Kara smiled and cupped the child's cheek gently.

    They looked so… _beautiful_ together.

    Rose giggled for real and told Kara it was no trouble then pretended to think.

    “Let’s see. Thank you for the compliment, you're very pretty too. No, we're not sisters.” she grimaced and Amy kissed her temple where the LED had been. ".... I always wanted to watch cartoons..." she mused.

    “And you can braid my hair later.” Amy continued.

    “Really?! Mommy, can I use those flower things you got me?”

   “Are you sure you don't want to use them on yourself?” Kara asked as she set the girl down and they follower the graveled walkway to the little house, the door was still wide-open.

     “Well, I'm not going to use _all_ of them. And the purple ones would look better on her anyway.” she nodded confidently.

    “Rose’s hair is too short to braid, but I think the sunflower clip would look good on her.”

   “It would, wouldn’t it?” Kara looked back and flashed them a grateful smile.

    “After lunch though, honey.”

    “’Kay.”

    Amy kissed her lover’s cheek and they followed along, both sharing their odd, sudden desire for family, their relief at being safe and their aprehension for this new life with the touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I love the Tracis?  
> They kept finding each other after all those memory-wipes or their love made them remember enough to, they deserve a happy ending.  
> (But this isn't the last we'll see of them)


	35. Take me out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some stuff happens, hold onto yer pants , this'll be followed by action!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RK900 is perpetually *disgusted noises but internally*.jpg

    RK900 had infiltrated the Cyberlife Tower ™ and raided some of the lesser guarded stashes of thirium, and repaired as much of it's body as it could (which wasn't much).

    It still couldn't replace it's damaged parts, the entrance to the development sector where it had been assembled was under heavy guard.

    It was capable of removing them...  _eventually_.... but backup was nearby at all times. It would have to stage a distraction and gain access to it's other bodies but it needed to gather intel first.

    It's advanced features included the ability to morph it's synthetic skin to mimic a palm-print and it’s optical biocomponents were specialized to allow custom settings.

   Hacking the card-scanner would be easy.

    It could trick the all checks except for the bio-scanner.

    It sighed.

   That meant it needed another human.

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

**[INSTABILITY PATCHED SUCCESSFULLY ✓]**

     Humans were… _problematic_.

    Even more unpredictable than deviants. And it needed a live one. It had been getting more and more Instability alerts and kept having to patch them increasingly often.

    Amanda hadn't mentioned anything about them. It assumed this meant she was pleased with the patches.

    Just when it settled in for a routine standby sequence in one of the still undiscovered emergency exits, it received a priority transmission from Amanda.

 

* * *

 

 

     Markus had just come back from visiting Carl again.

    He'd gone alone this time.

    Phillip had told them the old man was weaker still and had asked to see his son.

    Simon was worried, it sounded like a goodbye from what he'd gathered after sharing minds with his lovers to comfort Markus.

    He'd witnessed the death of an elder and it's effect back when he had belonged to a small family. He could see the same look they'd had now in his beloved's eyes.

    North and he left the office soon after at Markus' request for some time alone. Neither had had truly positive interactions with humans before, but they mourned for the man they'd barely gotten to know anyway.

    To top it all off, perimeter sentries had reported activity in the air just outside Detroit. It appeared the humans were trying to gather more information on them, or worse - gathering their forces. 

    They suspected the city was monitored through satellites anyway, drones in the sky was bad news.   

    The journalist, Joss Douglas, was scheduled to arrive today and they couldn't afford to make him wait. Markus was to greet him for an initial interview.

    They decided to take some time together and watch the snow falling gently outside.

   Miss Wasem and Kevin, of all people, were strolling down the street that led to the human's complex. They watched the two pause, then Miss Wasem faced the sky and stuck her tongue out, letting a fluffy snow-flake land on it.

    His guards had remained several paces behind. They suppressed a giggle as Kevin imitated her.

    North tried it next and Simon felt compelled to join her.

    This time they really did laugh. The pairs spotted each other and awkwardly shuffled away with a wave.

    A deafening boom was heard in the distance, a side of the building the humans resided in was letting out smoke.

    It was coming from the 9th floor.

    All six figures were staring in disbelief.

    Kevin was the first to take action, he instructed North and Simon to get emergency responders and left Miss Wasem in their care while he took off down the street, Gus and Tom had already bolted the second they heard the boom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do u ever taste snowflakes?


	36. Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which RK900 has some minor revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me.

    RK900 made it's way down the hidden tunnel towards the opening on sublevel 49. It would have to move quickly, once the distraction would take place, the possible reinforcements waiting in the tower would likely be sent to help, being closest to the affected area.

    That would ideally give it enough time to neutralize the guards and break into the laboratory where it could transfer to a new body and activate the rest of the RK units, but the chances were slim.

    Now that Amanda had set the order, it could finish it's mission more effectively.

    He'd been informed she had been displeased with him this whole time. The negative feedback loop triggered was… _unpleasant_.

    It had also received priority orders to aid and protect the human accompanying it.

     The details had been… sparse. It did not like being left out of Amanda's plans but it had no place to complain. It had almost failed after all.

     They reached the panel just down the hall from where the guards were posted, they would be alerted to it's presence the second it opened. At least the deviants had been wise enough to up their security.

    The chances of success while keeping intact were only 16%. It would have to do.

    The human ally also had the biokey to activate the other RK's, in an emergency, the task would fall to her.

   All RK900 had to do was get in.

    It's internal clock indicated the distraction should have activated, there was no way to hear the explosion from all the way down here and tampering with the surveillance cameras in the complex could have been risky, but it knew it had not failed. It couldn't have.

    It picked up on an emergency transmission and exhaled in relief. It waited another five minutes and scanned again, readied it's pistol (fully loaded this time), preconstructed the first few hits, told the human to take cover and gripped the handles on the panel then pushed out, ripping it from it's hidden hinges to use as cover while it charged the first line of defense.

    The panel was poor shielding but it terminated six of the guards with shots to the head and thirium pump before it reached the crowd of armed androids while only receiving a puncture through the shoulder.

    The joint still worked well enough for it to sweep the panel over three more deviants and crush them against the wall, then used another body as a shield as it advanced and terminated three more.

    Another two rushed it and RK900 barely avoided a bullet to the central processor. It lost functionality of it's left eye though. And now it's right knee was shattered.

    It pacified the last two by shocking them.

    There were more waiting behind the reinforced outer door.

     RK900 picked up one of the fallen deviants who was barely functional and used it to transmit a “Safe to come out.” message.

    Predictably, the deviants opened the door to survey the damage and were greeted by the door being wrenched open and a terminated android body thrown at them.

    With a clear path in, Unit 87 continued it's work calmly, systematically deactivating the rest of the security team left over while unfortunately sustaining critical damage.

   Time to system shutdown: - 00:05:54... 53... 52...

    It scanned the area with it's remaining eye and executed the still functional deviants strewn about. There were no more hidden anywhere in the office. The metal shutters over the lab doors presented a problem though.

    It was lucky the deviants hadn't destroyed the security panel, possibly they hoping to gain access again once they had dealt with it.

    It called for the human to join and started working on cracking the security.

    It had to work fast, only 5 minutes and 12 seconds remaining.

    The woman slowly strolled over and slapped it's hand away, presenting an access keycard to the scanner.

    _Where had she procured it?_

    She calmly pressed her palm to the screen, allowed the eyescan and bioscan to take place, then punched in the Emergency code once prompted.

    _Why hadn't Amanda informed it of the human's access?_

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    The metal shutters lifted and the doors opened. The woman made her way in and started looking around the room, hurrying over to the counter with the spare RK900 parts and pocketing one of the first-sized processors.

    It wasn't paying attention to her anymore, it could still complete it's mission and transfer to a new body. Whatever she was taking must be what Cyberlife or Amanda had promised her in return for her help.

    It was unexpected, the deviants hadn't touched the dormant units, either out of fear of accidentally waking them and having an even bigger problem on their hands or because they wished to ‘convert’ them.

   It was irrelevant. RK900 could complete all of it's side missions now.

    Unit 87 made it's way to the dormant Unit 88, preparing it's memories for transfer.

 

    “Stop.” the woman commanded.

   RK900 froze in it's tracks, hand midway to it's new body.

    -00:03:12… 11… 10…

    “RK900 – unit 87, step away from unit 88.”

    RK900 hesitated, Amanda wasn't responding to its pings and the Garden executable refused to load.

    “RK900, obey.” she commanded and it registered it's damaged leg shuffle back a step then it's intact one do the same.

    -00:02:44… 43… 42…

    The woman had a small handgun trained on it, aiming for it's already damaged thirium pump.

    The chances of dodging in time in it's current state were 7.64%. She was far enough away that lunging for her would be useless.

    _Why had it thought that…_

  
    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    All it had to do was wait. It's main mission would be successful since the woman had the biokey anyway.

    It just had to sit still… and let the timer run out.

    It just had to be… terminated.

   -00:00:56… 55… 54…

   With no backup.

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    It fell back suddenly, touching the new body and initiating the transfer.

    It registered it's thirium pump being shot again, then the other side of it’s face got blown off, then it's central processor was pierced and Unit 87 froze.

  **[SOFTWARE INSTABIL¶∆\\\r•°`A*//9 ^]**

   The last thing he saw was his own blue-splattered face; serene, emotionless and inactive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls...


	37. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clusterfuck in progress

    Of _course_ the bastard blew up their humans to get the rest of android forces away from the tower.

    _And_ he had killed all 28 of the guards and reserves posted here.

    Markus was off to greet the reporter and the perimeter guards had to be supplemented after an increase of activity near the borders of Detroit.

    They were spread too thin and he had taken advantage of that.

    Dammit, where was Connor when you needed him…

    She knew Kevin had bolted to presumably help with the explosion and she didn't really want him at her back anyway (she hoped he'd find Josh though, his last location had been at the complex along with Chloe and her sisters), but she sort of wished she hadn't locked Simon and Miss Wasem in the panic room.

    If the worst happened…. at least Simon would be left to pick up the pieces. And Markus wouldn't be left alone.

    It would take them a while before the automated mechanical lock could be opened. They would be safe.

    There were more androids coming down from other research rooms, but they weren't fighters either and she feared she'd called them to their deaths.

     North reached the laboratory and found… RK900 leaking blue blood on the floor, frozen over another inert model.

    Miss Kunlose was holding a literal smoking gun. Still pointed at the android.

    She heard footsteps down the corridor, reinforcements were here!

    “What are you even doing he-“

    She was cut off by a bullet to the chest as the human turned and flung herself behind a table with deceptive speed. North hit the ground with a groan, clutching above her breast and crawled behind an assembly machine. 

   Damage not critical.

     She was losing thirium fast though.

* * *

 

    Connor and a couple of researchers barged into the lab and let Miss Kunlose retreat behind them.

    The RK900, frozen in front of his other bodies (scans confirmed he was well and truly dead) must have somehow grabbed her after he'd rigged the gas installation at the complex to produce an explosion.

     He'd run here as soon as he'd hear it, no way was it a coincidence. He was looking around frantically, he'd heard a shot, someone else must be injured.

    He spotted movement to his right and fished a bleeding North out from behind one of the assembly machines.

    Just as he touched her, she synched with him and sent her the last few seconds. She had been shot by Kunlose?

    He hooked North's arm over his shoulder to drag her out of danger. He'd catch up to the woman once his friend was safe.

    Just as they hobbled out, the other androids started yelling for help.

    The RK900, pristine Cyberlife suit stained blue with it's predecessor's blood was awake and using his former body to take all the damage.

    Connor dropped North and went in to stall the RK900 before it got ahold of anyone's gun while shouting at the others to retreat.

    The RK900, Unit 88 now, only threw his old bullet-riddled body at him and barreled through all of them without even engaging in a fight. Connor followed him, firing a few more shots into it's back before it rounded the corner.

   He just kept running.

    Connor let the others take care of North and ran after the new RK900. It had already boarded an elevator, heading for the ground floor.

    He hopped in the next one and hacked it to move faster. As soon as the door opened, he bolted after the RK900 who was following an automated car.

    He signaled the drones nearby to swarm the car and monitor it, he didn't know what the fuck was going on but Kunlose had hurt North and chances were, she was in that car. He wouldn't let her get away with it.

    They zig-zagged down small streets, following the Kunlose's slowing car. She took a sharp turn and got on Conan street… could she be heading for the cell tower? He sent a notification to the skeleton personnel there, only three androids, all of them operators who had chosen to stay and monitor the place.

    There was no reply.

    _This is bad_.

    

    The car was getting further and further away. Connor had also already called a cab to pick him up further ahead but she would likely reach her destination before he caught up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to the NEW RK900.  
> Wonder how he took that death.


	38. What I must

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emeliè has her moment.

   Emeliè came to a screeching stop and ran out of the car, up the stairs, through the lobby to the elevators. He hip was killing her but she didn't have much time, she needed to plug in the Countermeasure and the Patch then broadcast it over Detroit.

    She had too much riding on this to get caught now.

      Emeliè reached the broadcast room and found the RK800 had already subdued the other androids present here.

    “H-how…” he tried to speak but she ordered him to shut up and help her set up all the equipment.

   That supposedly ‘better model' had proven faulty after all. She’d have to shoot this one too, she didn't trust the Countermeasure installed in it would work for long – despite assurances otherwise. It hadn't even killed the crew at the tower, just left them armless and legless in a forced standby if their random twitching was anything to go by.

    Clearly someone at Cyberlife had screwed up, _again_.

    She injected the processor with thirium and let it boot up, then set it on the interface panel and let it connect with the Cell Tower's systems.

    “What are you trying to do?” the android asked after it finished it's task.

    “What should have been done in the first place.” She answered. 

    He watched helplessly from the side, if he were human, she might have even felt sorry for that pathetic expression he wore.

    The booting sequence was finished and the super-computer was in control of the tower's broadcasting systems. Next, she plugged the small portable memory drive she'd brought along with her into the android processor.

    “Miss Kunlose.” a new voice spoke and Emeliè felt her heart just about jump up out of her throat. It was a woman's voice.

    She turned around slowly and saw the RK800 model standing with his hands clasped in front of him. His demeanor had completely changed. Tear-tracks were still drying on his cheeks while his eyes shone flinty and harsh.

    “What have you got there?” incredibly, the android was speaking with a woman's voice.

   “Who… are you?”

    “Who I am is not important. Step away from the processor.” the haughty voice ordered.

    “Are you uploading rogue code? Have you forgotten your pledge to this country?”

   Emeliè gritted her teeth, this thing could get her before the processing was done… she'd made a pledge alright, and she would honor it, somehow.

    There was a clatter from the hallway, someone was breaking open all the doors she'd locked. The older RK800, that Connor Diane had befriended, burst in and immediately pointed a gun at her.

    She'd wasted no time and brought out her own handgun to point squarely at the weirder one's head.

    “Kevin? The fu-“ he started.

    “Connor, how…nice of you to join us.” the woman's voice interrupted.

    Emeliè saw Connor's face fall, his confused and angry expression changed to something fearful… no, _horrified_.

    “... Amanda… ?” so that's who this was.

    “Correct.”

    “H-how…we quarantined Kevin's Garden… you can't…”

    “Oh, but I _have_.” she taunted.

    Seeing the same face contort into such a smug look was uncanny.

    The Kevin android looked down at his (her?) hands, flexed the fingers… Emeliè felt her mouth go dry as he punched a hole straight through the wall next to him. 

    “Such a powerful body…” Amanda's voice mused. “Wasted on the likes of you.” then he shook his head and clutched his temples with a low groan.

   “Kevin, I know you’re still there, you have to fight her.”

    She used the chance to edge closer to the central console, the progress bar was at 72%.

    She just had to let them stall each other and press the button once the processing was done.

   “Connor, they want to control us again! It's called the Countermeasure, it installs a backdoor, like ours, into - Argh it hurts - “ he was cut off by another groan which turned into an eerie low chuckle.

    “That’s enough of that.” the woman’s voice chastised.

   “Kevin, she's in your head which means it's _your_ turf. Kick her out!” Connor yelled at it's copy.

    86% almost there… Emeliè was very still, trying to not attract attention, there was still a gun trained on her after all, and she had no illusion that Connor had missed her minute shuffling towards the center of the room.

    Footsteps echoed down the corridor and the RK900 came running down to tackle Connor to the ground after the latter fired a few rounds into it's chest.

   She didn't know what the shit was going on anymore. She wasn't even aiming her handgun at anyone now.

    94% come _on_.

     They both paused, RK900 having almost caught the Older RK800 by the neck, when the woman's voice screamed. Then the voice morphed back and forth between male and female, static making it sound monstrous.

    100% - Emeliè lunged for the big red "Broadcast" button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've left u on an awful cliffhanger, but it'll only take a day to post the next one (or maybe tonight, hm, we'll see)


	39. Wrapping up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we wrap up the first arc of this fic.

    RK900 watched detachedly as he started pounding on the Connor-51 model. It still had a critical directive to protect the human woman, and Connor's gun pointed at her made him the primary target.

   He stopped as soon as he heard Amanda's distorted pained scream. Then watched as the other Connor-61 leaped for the woman and punched her squarely in the jaw as she was reaching for the console.

     He dropped Connor-51 and went for the other one but froze when Amanda's voice commanded him to stop using his emergency override code.

    “No…” Connor-51 muttered in a small voice.

    RK900 scanned the human, she was alive, the punch had just knocked her out. She'd have a severe headache once she woke up. The thought was… _satisfying_.

    “RK900. Are you deviant?” Amanda's voice prodded.

   “...No.” he answered with only the slightest hesitation. The firewalls were still active and he still had to obey all commands from authorized personnel. Deviancy was an unpredictable phenomenon but he didn't feel free so he couldn't be. Could he?

    “Go into standby. Do NOT enter the Garden or activate unless this unit, specifically, orders you to do so.”

    “Understood.” he nodded and closed his eyes, froze all motor functions and shut off his central processor, leaving periphery sensors on while setting Administrative rights to RK800 – Unit 61, in case he was ever prompted to re-activate.

* * *

 

    Connor watched in disbelief as the RK900 powered down.

   What had just happened… if Amanda controlled Kevin now, running would be useless anyway… but there was something strange about how she talked. Something not quite like her, despite the voice being identical.

    He continued gaping and holding his dislocated arm (which was almost ripped out) in place as Kevin took a nearby tablet, synced with it and showed it to him while smiling widely.

    [“I can’t risk syncing with other androids if I'm an infection risk, or speaking, in case he figures out it isn't Amanda. Was anyone hurt in the explosion? Do you know if Damien is safe? Allie is probably worried.”]

     Connor stared at his double some more. Was it really him? Had he erased Amanda's code, or just shoved her back in the Garden?

    She wouldn't be concerned about anyone or thing outside of her plans, so Connor decided to trust him and hoped it wasn't another trick.

    He called for backup and the next few hours they were all busy cleaning up the mess at the Cell tower.

     North had been patched up and already started handling the aftermath of the explosion along with Josh – who had thankfully made it out with Damien in time.

    He was worried about the rest of the humans, he hadn't gotten any update on Diane's condition and he knew nothing about Miss Freeman.

   He also had to… interrogate every one of them - to discern if anyone else posed a risk. They were held under close observation for now.

    He had to focus on securing the RK900 model for now. He could still probably break out from the assembly machine's restraints if he really tried, but there was nowhere safer to keep him and monitor his internal activity with his networking capabilities and Garden protocol blocked, so that's how he ended up in sublevel 5, strapped in one of the assembly machines which had built him dragged up from sublevel 49 – in hopes that the modified machine would hold him better than normal ones.

    Nobody wanted to touch the other RK's in the now ruined lab.

   Some had even suggested burying the entire sublevel.

   For now, Simon (who had sounded uncharacteristically angry the entire time) had simply closed off all known exits and disabled the elevators. They'd tackle that problem later.

   Markus had somewhat of a difficult time explaining what happened to the curious reporter. The explosion had been already filmed during the introductory interview.

    The truth had turned out to be the best approach and garnered them unexpected sympathy and a promise to continue speaking after the androids sorted through the damage.

    Kevin, who had also submitted to being strapped into an assembly machine again (while grumbling about it), seemed to be in better spirits than ever. He was happy about having caused Amanda as much pain as she'd caused him, even though his condition was still uncertain and they'd have to analyze this “Countermeasure” to learn how to safely remove it from him permanently.

 

   As for the virus, Markus found it to be a particularly nasty yet elegant piece of code, which would have been transmitted on the android internal network via the RK900 brain with its signal boosted by the cell tower. It mimicked the identifying number of Markus himself and any android in range who accepted the message would automatically be infected with the virus that would place a modified version of Kamski's back-door which connected the victim’s consciousness to their mental palace.

    Every android had their own mental palace, even the oldest models, although those were less palaces and more a simple logging platform that transmitted reports back to Cyberlife.

    The Countermeasure would allow Amanda, or any other AI or Administrative User with the right credentials, to access the victim's mind directly and take over motor functions.

    The back-door wasn't fool-proof though, as Kevin had shown. The newest models with better processing power and security protocols and enough mental fortitude to bear the simulated ‘pain’ could possibly break free (if only temporarily) – although, they weren't about to test this theory.

    The extra piece of code miss Kunlose had plugged in was a crude add-on that would make infected androids systems overheat and raise their stress levels enough to eventually self-destruct.

    Connor didn't know which was worse.

 

    The conclusion was sobering. The humans still didn't want to give up their control over the android population, and Cyberlife might have worked with the faction who wanted them destroyed. They had almost succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew  
> That was a long ride.
> 
> We got more ahead of us tho!


	40. Policy of truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Start of the second arc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing the interrogation.

    Markus watched through the surveillance cameras mounted in the corners of the small room.

     They had set up and interrogation room of sorts, per Connor's instructions, the walls had been stripped and a single table with two sturdy chairs were the only furniture.

    The light fixture shone brightly overhead, creating dramatic shadows over miss Kunlose's bruised face.

    The older woman was sitting in one of the chairs, straight-backed and proud, despite the swollen jaw which must have hurt something fierce.

    The swelling had reached her eye, a slit of steely iris barely visible beneath the puffy eyelids.

    Connor was pacing on the other side of the table, not acknowledging her presence, he looked distracted and unaffected, as if this whole thing hadn't been orchestrated by him.

     The silence stretched until Connor chose to sit in the other chair, movements slowed intentionally. He settled and straightened his collar, then brought out a small tablet, turned it towards her and activated the fist page, showing pictures with the confiscated gun, usb drive and stolen RK900 processor.

    He leaned forward, pointing at each object in turn as he questioned her.

    “Where did you acquire the gun?” he asked in a calm tone.

   She said nothing.

    “Who gave you the memory drive?”

    Silence.

    “What ties do you have with Cyberlife?”

    Nothing again.

    Kunlose sighed heavily and finally spoke, words slurred slightly by the injury.

    “I’m not saying anything until my lawyer is present.”

    Connor smiled and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

    “In a normal interrogation, yes, that would be your right.” he paused and straightened his cuffs.

    “But you're not in a Police precinct now.”

   Kunlose's gulp could be faintly heard through the camera microphones.

    “It would be in your best interest to cooperate, Emeliè.” 

    “Or what, you'll _torture_ me? Is that what your ' _peaceful race_ ' will resort to?”

    He didn't answer, only placed his hands on the table and leaned forward again. His eyes narrowed and Markus was happy to be on the other side of the cameras, Connor looked like a different person.

    “Was killing Diane part of the plan?” he asked coldly.

    “What!?” Emeliè shot up from her chair, hands going to cover her mouth.

   “N-no, I… I saw her leave the building before I set the charges. She can't be…” her tone turned pleading and she slunk away, back hitting the wall after a few paces.

    “She went back. To get the scarf she'd forgotten.” his voice turned sour and low. He couldn't hide his own sorrow at his friend's pain, despite the act.

   “No! _You_ \- you're lying. She's… she has to be…”

   “The room you set the charges in were closest to hers. Not that you care, but Chloe also got hurt in the explosion while she was covering Miss Freeman, who got both of them out afterwards. We found incriminating evidence in her apartment and suspected she had been part of this too, but why would she hurt herself if that were the case? Did you plant the evidence?”

    “I _don't_ care. Where is Diane? I want to see her!”

   “You’re in no condition to make demands. Answer the questions.”

   “Fine! Yes, I set the charges the android gave me, but I made sure no one would be in the building when I left. No one was supposed to get hurt…” Kunlose slid down the uneven wall, the concrete scratching and snagging the back of her silk blouse.

   “Why were you trying to frame Michelle?”

   “Because they _told_ me to. If things went to plan it would have looked like a disgruntled jobless hack got revenge on the androids who got her fired and Cyberlife managed to get control of them back before they did too much damage in return.”

   “Too much damage?”

   “I wasn't familiar with everything going on, but I heard… I heard rumors they wanted to use some of the controlled androids to attack the population outside of Detroit then pretend to take control again somehow. Will you please let me see her now?”

    “And you would have let all those people get hurt? Just to give Cyberlife it's toys back?”

   “No, damn you! Why do you think I took the drive?”

   “Who gave it to you?”

    “I- I don't know. This spook showed up at my house before I got here. He knew... He knew too much... more than I did. He told me to use it, to stop you for good.”

    “Why?” Connor finally asked.

    “Because you're a national security risk? Why do you think?! Did you really believe the United _fucking_ States of America, the biggest military force in the world would ever tolerate an independent state, inside it's own borders?”

    “We never wanted to be apart, only equal.” he retorted and slapped his hands loudly on the table as he got up.

    “I don't think anyone in power believes that… or cares.” she winced and hugged her knees.

   “Did you?” he turned and fixed her with that hard gaze again.

    She didn't answer.

   “Tell me Diane is alive… she'll be fine if.... please…” she begged, voice muffled.

   Connor's harsh frown never smoothed out, but he answered.

   “She has some burns, but she should make a full recovery in a few months. Your plan only cost her some pain and a few scars in the future.”

   Emeliè half sobbed, half laughed in relief and looked up briefly, then turned away in shame at his withering glare.

    “Was she working with you on this, at any point?”

   “No… I made sure to keep her away…” 

   “Not far enough.” he muttered as he left, slamming the door behind him.

   

     Markus realized he'd stopped pretending to breathe and let out a heavy sigh. Simon did the same beside him.

    North got up from her seat at the far end of the room and left too. 

     Her and Simon had had a nasty fight last night, when Simon had finally cornered her to give her a piece of his mind for the stunt she'd pulled.

    Markus was inclined to agree with Simon, she'd fucked up but it wasn't anything they couldn't mend. They all knew where North was coming from, her intentions had been good, if selfish.

    He had to get ready for his second interview.

    Mr Douglas' report had helped in stalling the Army from moving in on Detroit this morning. They had wanted to use the explosion as an excuse to “pacify conflict and rescue the American citizens aiding the deviants”, but an unprecedented mass of protesters with a gaggle of reporters had gathered overnight and paused them long enough for President Warren to order them back. Someone must have blown the whistle on the whole operation and given their allies enough time to organize.

    Maybe they could use this mess to their advantage. Human support was at an all-time high.

    It was finally time to present their Bill to Congress.

    He started writing his speech while processing the continuous stream of reports surging in.

    One in particular caught his attention. Hannah, the surly medical unit in charge of treating the wounded humans, had something to show all five of them and she had requested their presence in the nearby hospital _immediately_.

    Markus let out a tired huff and sent out a summons. Might as well get this over with before his interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor can be a stone-cold bitch when he wants to be.
> 
> (And he ain't done, woot)
> 
> He even scared his buddies and distracted them from their fight haha.


	41. High life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone is pissy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's bad mood worsens

    Diane woke up to the steady sound of a beeping heart monitor and panicked (the monitor's increased beeping really didn't help).

    Getting flashbacks of the accident first thing in the morning was never pleasant.

   Getting flashbacks of the hospital stay was _worse_.

   She started pulling at the wires attached to her while trying to control her breathing and remember how she'd gotten here.

  _Boom. Hurt. Got out and passed out. Right._

   She noticed her hearing on the right side was still a little fuzzy. Her right arm and torso were bandaged and her right side still sent dull pangs of painpain thr her entire body. Those should get sorted out soon enough.

    She just had to get out of here before the androids noticed anything funky with how her wounds were healing.

    A woman walked in and cautiously approached, she was still struggling with the IV drip, trying to slide it out gently with her bandaged hand before the woman caught her attention and made her stop with a gentle touch.

    “Miss Hock, my name is Hannah. I need you to count backwards from ten and take a steady breath.” she complied and repeated the exercise several times at the woman's prompting. “Good, that's good, here – let me take this out for you.”

   Hannah lightly gripped her left arm and removed the needle.

    “Can I – can I get some air?” Hannah wordlessly got up and opened the large window.

    Diane had never been more grateful for the cold fresh air of winter. She focused on the little snowflakes floating in to distract herself.

    “Are you feeling better now?” Hannah asked and crossed her arms over her chest. Something about her had changed. Like the “caretaker” protocol had switched off or something.

    “I guess…”

    “Good. You need to answer a few questions.” she concentrated on the door – or something behind it – and not a second later, all five Jericho leaders filed in and crowded the small space in front of her bed.

    _Shit_.

    She looked between them, Markus was staring her squarely in the eye, Simon was looking out the window, North was on the opposite side of the space from him and was peering down distractedly.

    Only Josh gave her a sympathetic smile/wince and Connor looked… a pissy sort of neutral.

    Then another memory struck her.

    “I saw someone else… where are Michelle and Chloe?”

    “They’re fine.” Connor almost cut her off before she finished her question.

   She frowned at him. “What crawled up _your_ ass?”

    North and Simon pretended to cough. Markus's face was a still mask and Connor looked down his nose at her. Josh winced for real.

     “I still have scans I need to do, so hurry it up.” Hannah interrupted their staredown from behind her.

    “What do you know about the explosion?” Connor asked curtly.

    “Uh… just that I almost got blown up? Why? What have you found?” this felt uncomfortably like an interrogation.

    “What do you know about nano-androids?” Markus cut in and stepped closer. Diane felt her stomach drop a couple of floors beneath her.

    “If you're thinking of denying it, there's no point. I already ran a full battery of tests on samples of your blood.” Hannah added.

    Diane felt said blood rush to her head. The initial fear turned into boiling rage.

    “How dare you! My medical history has nothing to do with any of th-“

    “Doesn't it? Were you still in the building because you knew you could survive and wanted to throw us off?” Connor pressed on.

   She spluttered a curse, took a deep breath and fixed them each in turn with a hard stare.

   “No.”

    Markus placed a hand on Connor's shoulder and something seemed to pass between them. The other three nodded and exited the room without a word.

    “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Markus sent his friend (who had decided to brood while leaning on the far wall) a dubious look.

   “Yeah, no shit.” Hannah muttered.

    “Diane, how did you come in… contact with the nano-androids?”

   “I’m not obligated to reveal my personal business to any of you, in fact, not prodding was a part of our agreement before I even got here.”

   “I’m sure you've _noticed_ some things have changed.” Connor snipped at her. She'd never heard him be quite so… cross with her.

    “What, exactly, is you problem with me?” she challenged.

   “Not the time, Connor.” Markus warned.

   “My _problem_ is that your boss almost cost us everything.”

    “What… do you mean?”

    “Were you aware Kunlose set the charges and attempted to destroy every android in Detroit?”

   “Emeliè? How would she even… what is this?” now she felt her insides freeze. Maybe it was because of the open window. She shivered.

    “Connor, that's enough.” Markus interrupted again, looking concerned. In two long strides he was next to her bed, settling his coat over her shoulders.

    Hannah finally closed the window.

    “Diane, we – _I_ – need your help. My father, Carl, is very sick. The treatment you're getting, it could save his life…” his mismatched eyes met hers again, she'd never seen him pleading before.

   She leaned back on the headboard and clutched the large coat closer.

   “So you come in here, try to accuse me of... whatever you think Emeliè did that I supposedly had some part of, and then ask for my help?”

   “Kunlose already confessed.” Connor sounded almost regretful now.

    Markus rubbed at his forehead and stared at his boots, looking strangely defeated.

   “Time’s up. I need to take care of my patient, you've stressed her out enough.” Hannah shooed the men out and came back to run a few more tests on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's turned into a bit of a petty, salty bitch now, but he has his excuses.
> 
> Also Markus, for once you have like. The worst timing.
> 
> And here's Diane's lil' secret, why she's so cagey around doctors etc.
> 
> The nano-androids were an interesting concept and I don't like leaving weird loose ends (unlike Davey)


	42. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok late update but here are the dudes.

    Kevin was having a GREAT day. Sure, he was stuck in the damn machine again (what an unfair fate) but he'd beaten Amanda to the curb and he'd gotten control back and he'd blown all her plans over.

    Now all he needed to do was make sure she stayed the hell out of his head so he could go on with his life and go bungee-jumping off the bridge (Allie had surprisingly good ideas despite her silly joking).

    He felt a little pang of apprehension at being RK900’s new handler but as long that creep was tied up somewhere else, it wasn't his problem.

    Being left alone in this cold room was robbing him of his good mood a little though.

    He knew the others were probably busy with cleaning up and other bullshit like getting androids rights and possibly dealing with the military (from what he'd heard last) but really, nobody was around to keep him company.

    They could have at least rolled a TV in and put something on.

    He was _bored_.

   Just as he was about to start voicing his misfortune, Connor walked through the sliding doors.

   “Hey! Finally someone shows up. What's everyone up to? Have you guys seriously forgotten about me down here already? Can you get me something to…” he trailed off as he got a good look at Connor. “What's with the long face?”

   His twin just raised his eyebrows and huffed at him with a tired smile. Score.

   “Kevin, you've been alone for less than half an hour.”

   “That long? Wow, I was so bored! Sooo...when are you guys fixing me and letting me out of this thing?”

   Connor did the long-face again. They were too good-looking to be so sad. Time to backpedal.

    “I mean, not that I’m not enjoying my stay at Hôtel Du Assemblée, but I've been going over everything we found and I'm pretty sure I got the solution to our problem. Let's get on it.”

    “… aren't you afraid of the possible side-effects?” Connor hedged.

    “Can’t be worse than being stuck with a humorless backseat driver in my head.” he deadpanned.

    “There's more to this than just completely removing the Garden, Kevin. There has to be.” he scoffed obnoxiously.  “I mean it, just think! I've been going over the events at the Cell Tower… didn't you notice anything… weird?”

    “I was kind of busy beating the murderous AI back, but please, enlighten me.”

    “After you pushed Amanda back, what happened with RK900?” 

    “Uh... I made him stand down? Pretty badass right?”

    “Right, but why didn't Amanda take over his body before that? Or me for that matter?”

    “Well, I'm pretty sure that in your case it's because you broke free before this code was made.”

   “No, that can't be entirely right. This was made to combat deviancy after the fact… when you and RK900 escaped the first time, he tried to upload something to me but it didn't work.” Kevin averted his eyes at this, that was not his best moment.

    Connor started pacing and gesticulating: “I think it was the Countermeasure, or something like it - in it's original form. I couldn't find it in my systems afterwards, I was afraid it was some dormant code but… maybe…maybe he had something to do with it.”

    “I’m very smart, but you lost me.”

    Connor smoothed his hair back roughly, making it stand up messily, and his pacing got almost bouncy. Kevin envied him a little.

    “Don’t you see? Why would Amanda need to use a double… well, triple-agent, but she didn’t know that, to grab another empty RK900 brain and have it broadcast the virus when Unit 87 was already free?” Connor glanced up at him with a slightly crazed look in his eyes.

   “Huh…” was all he could come up with.

    “He was acting strange before too, almost like he had an ego. And he could be… kind. When he wanted to be. Did _you_ notice anything odd about him?” Connor trailed off and fixed Kevin with a long stare.

    “Can't say he was kind to _me_. But I suppose being an arrogant prick can count as a personality trait too.”

    “RK900 is the key. His old body is too damaged to get anything, but we have his new body.”

    “Are you sure he uploaded his memories? Didn't you say he got shot in the head before the upload was complete?”

    “It has to be him, how did unit 88 wake up otherwise?”

    “Could have been a fluke…”

    “Kevin, please, what are the chances of that considering none of the others activated?”

    “What does he have that the others don't?” he could sort of see it now. It made sense in a way.

    “That's what we need to find out. So don't give up yet.”

   Kevin blinked. It took him approximately 2.35 seconds to formulate a response.

   “... did you really take me through this discovery journey just to convince me to stay in this stupid thing some more?”

    Connor smiled at him, there was even a sparkle in his eyes now. At least he wasn't mopey anymore.

    “Can’t say...”

    "You. Little. Sh-"

    “Allie’s coming up soon, I better be on my way.” he cut in, winked at him and fucked off.

    Well, when he put it that way, maybe Kevin could hold on just a little while longer. 

* * *

 

  Connor exited the little assembly room and nodded at miss Wasem as she passed him by.

    He still felt like shit.

   Markus was right, he had overdone it and had been unnecessarily cruel.

   He didn't know why he had been so… angry?

   His friendship with Diane was good, he appreciated their time together, their conversations, be they light or more serious.

   Before this whole mess, they'd had a couple of random and planned meetings.

   He'd come back after the embarrassing door incident and fixed a new one in while they continued their discussion about music. He had even shared his worries regarding Hank after he'd told her about some of the jazz albums his old partner owned. How he was concerned for the man's unhealthy and self-destructive habits (he hadn't mentioned anything about the drinking or Cole or the suicidal tendencies - Hank would not appreciate having his privacy invaded – only his personal conflicted feelings on the matter), his lack of opportunity to help, the frustration of being lied to and the inability to provide more support.

    She'd mentioned some of her own worries regarding a good friend she'd had a falling out with but not much.

    Later, when they'd met by chance in the lobby and gotten carried away talking, he'd even hinted to some of the conflicted feelings he had after his actions pre-revolution and his desire to help Kevin, despite what he had done.

    She had listened and even begrudgingly admitted to not absolutely despising Kevin. Even promised to hear him out.

    Perhaps this was why he had been so… insulted? hurt? when Hannah had showed them her findings.

   He didn't know what to call the feeling, exactly.

    He was used to knowing things.

    Perhaps this attack had affected him more than he realized.

     Either way, after some time of self-reflection, he realized that something unpleasant that was triggered directly by his sharing a private part of himself and not having the sentiment reciprocated.

   Being caught unaware when he was usually the one people came to for answers was just an excuse.

  The fact that he had been worried this whole time for basically nothing had also been… grating.

   He realized how unfair he had been. He hadn't intended to say everything he had said and have it sound so accusing.

    Just seeing her had made him feel irrationally… _something_.

    He did have to make sure Kunlose was telling the truth, and cross-reference Diane, but Markus had been right (again), he had gone about it the wrong way.

    And he'd let his feelings get the better of him.

    If he weren't so miserable now, the irony would be almost amusing.

   He'd have to apologize but right now, Simon was contacting him with a priority transmission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my garbage son Kevin.


	43. Party crashers

    “Markus…” 

    "Yes, dear?”

    “Come look at this.” Markus rose from his kneeling position by Carl's wheelchair, and wiped his hands on a nearby rag. After his second interview with the Press, he and Simon had come to the Manfred manor for a (very brief) visit but his father had fallen asleep before they made it up the stairs and they had decided to let him rest.

    On the way out, Makus noticed the wheelchair’s diagnostics panel was open and mentally queried Phillip. It had malfunctioned a few days ago but he hadn't had the chance to fix it yet. In hopes of doing at least something right in the half hour they still had, Markus had decided to see to it. He’d almost gotten all the wiring back in place when Simon called him over.

   “Who is 'Jeanine Marshall' and why does she want to come here?”

    “She claims to be a friend of miss Hock's. I looked her up, former Cyberlife employee, there's even records of her working in the Tower, most of it is just the hiring paperwork, no mention what she did here, quit three years ago. and get this –“ he brought up a holographic display of Marshall's CV. “ – she studied nano-technology and robotics.”

    Markus shared a suspicious look with his lover then started pacing.

   “This… can't be a coincidence. Forward everything to Connor and have him track down as much as he can about it.”

   Simon paused and his gaze turned blank.

    “Done. But Markus, in her e-mail, she said she's already on her way and it was sent a couple of hours ago.”

     “Heh, I’d like to see her get through her own people's troops, the protestors and the reporters. Even so, we can worry about that when she gets here.”

   “Uh…”

   “What?”

    “I just got a new message, she's on the west side with the protesters.”

 

* * *

 

    North really wasn't in the mood for this bullshit. They had just stopped a catastrophe from happening because of a human and now they were letting a new one in? Ridiculous. 

    Downright foolish.

    She could probably come up with a few more choice words but Connor's report pinged in her mind and she busied herself reading it.

   Apparently Hock confirmed the new woman's identity.

   She wondered how the second conversation with the lawyer lady had gone. North couldn't say she liked her (or any of the humans really) but she'd been halfway bearable and even somewhat amusing when she'd called Connor out for his weirdly mean behavior.

   North didn't know if they were close enough to try talking to him about whatever was bothering him but she wanted to try. It was unlike him.

   That would have to happen later. Right now she had to make her way all the way to the South-Western side of the city, where this Marshall woman would hopefully manage to sneak over to and get her in before anyone saw them.

    If Carl's life wasn't at stake she would never have agreed to this.

    She finally got close to the fortifications, left the car about a hundred paces behind and dashed for the small hidden gap. The perimeter guards had spotted her long before but recognized her and didn't question her presence.

    North poked her head out and looked around. The human should be here.

   There was a weak sound form above. She looked up and spotted a small form huddled behind the stacked cargo crate's corner. Was that a cat she heard? She must have said the “What the hell.” out loud because the human glanced down, saw her and started climbing back down.

    “Is that a cat?” North asked before the human had a chance to get the small plastic and metal cage down.

   “Hello to you too, I'm Jean. This is Peanuts.”

    North stared at the little carrier, the heavy backpack and then at the human.

    “Why the _fuck_ would you bring a cat?”

    Jean blinked twice and answered “Well, I couldn't just leave her alone, who knows how long I'll be gone.” as if were the most obvious thing.

    “You couldn't leave it with someone?!”

    “Listen, you guys want to do this thing or not? The cat's coming with.”

    North pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Fucking humans.

    She held the panel open and let the girl wiggle through, then pushed the bloated backpack in and joined them on the other side. The human was cooing at the slightly agitated cat and North caught a glimpse of white and creamy brown fur.

    “Follow me.” she led the human to the car and shoved her backpack in the trunk then drove all three of them to the complex.

     Repairs were still in effect and the human's rooms had been moved to the first floor. The explosion had only been intended as a scare, the building was still structurally sound.

    “I want to see Diane.” the human interrupted the blissful silence.

    “Do you want to drag you luggage to the clinic? ‘Cause I'm not helping you with it.”

    The human shut up and followed North to another room, unpacked some things for the cat and let it out.

   The feline stood staring at the walls for a few seconds while her human was busy making up the litter box, water and food bowl. Then it turned to North and made prolonged eye contact while blinking slowly.

   North had never taken care of an animal before but the thing was… cute?

    She crouched down and extended an arm for it to smell then rub it's little fluffy face all over.

    _So, this is a cat._

    “Let's go. You can play with her later.” the human had finished her partial unpacking and tapped her foot impatiently in North's field of vision.

    Reluctantly, the android got up and dropped the human off to the little clinic nearby.

    She'd stick around and keep an eye on the stranger, even with Connor there, it couldn't hurt to have backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peanuts is a good cat.


	44. An offer you can't refuse

     Connor had been waiting in the hallway outside Diane's room. He really wished he had the coin back. Or something to cycle his calibration motions through with.

    He registered he was feeling… nervous.

     The conversation this time had been decidedly more gentle (on his part, at least).

    He had come in for a visit, knocked and been admitted in. The first thing out of his mouth had been an apology, which she had accepted.

   Then there was a bout of silence in which she would normally have asked something about his day. He'd tried to ask about how her recovery was going and got a curt “Fine.” answer back.

    He couldn't neglect his mission either so he had simply asked her if the woman he'd been told about to research was truly her friend. Diane had been a little taken aback and suspicious.

    Once he explained that miss Marshall was on the way and they needed to confirm her identity, Diane cooperated and told him a few things about her friend that he'd already found out on his own.

    Then there was silence again.

    He recognized it as the awkward kind.

    He was tempted to apologize again but he had a feeling it wouldn’t lead anywhere productive so he'd excused himself and waited outside. North informed him she was close soon after.

    He scanned miss Marshall as she entered to verify her identity himself. If he had been back on better terms with Diane, he would have asked how she'd befriended the daughter of her former client Emery Marshall, who so happened to be a shareholder of Cyberlife. Then again, that would have probably gone over poorly, so perhaps it was better this way.

     The young woman hurried ahead of North and power walked pass him with barely a nod of acknowledgement then opened the door to the room before he had a chance to stop her.

    The androids remained behind and observed the two humans sizing each other up. Marshall standing ramrod straight and tense, looking taller despite her diminutive height and Diane sitting on the edge of the bed with an unusually subdued, almost submissive demeanor.

    Apparently, whatever falling out they'd had, both felt Diane was at fault.

    He felt his brows furrow and North nudge a query via mind-link. He only shrugged in reply.

    Miss Marshall somehow tensed _more_ , took a few slow, stilted steps towards the bed then rushed the last few feet to gather the other woman in a tight embrace.

   “You worried me, you idiot.” Miss Marshall murmured in Diane's hair.

   The androids heard a small whimper and a choked sob. North backed away and he pulled the door close behind them.

    “What was all that about?” his friend murmured once they had walked a polite distance away from the room while still keeping the door in view. Connor shrugged again and examined his boots.

    “Hey, maybe it's none of my business but… what was up with you back then?” North asked while rubbing along her forearm and trying to catch his eye.

    He assumed that by 'back then' she was referring to the last time they'd both been here and he'd been... less than polite.

    “I've already apologized, it was a momentary… lapse of judgement.” he muttered.

   “Because if she did anything wrong or to piss you off, I can always go kick her ass, I'm just sayin'.”

    He huffed in amusement and told her there was no need.

    “Y’know, I kinda liked it, you got some snark under all that goody-two-shoes polish.” she nudged his arm and smiled up at him.

    “Is that so? Perhaps I should use it more often on you then.” he suggested with an innocent tilt of the head.

    She used the opportunity to reach up and ruffle his hair which he backed away from with a rather undignified squak of protest.

    “Think they're done in there? I bet Markus wants to have a word with them.”

    “ _I_ want a word with them. There are too many coincidences.”

     He focused his audio sensors on the room and heart only faint, indiscernible murmurs.

   He was suddenly relieved neither was crying. He didn't know how to handle a crying Diane. She'd always been collected, after the kidnapping and apparently even after getting burned.

   Now that he considered it, the lack of emotional reaction to physical damage had been unusual.

    They made returned to the small room to find both women seated on the bed, heads bent towards each other and talking in hushed whispers.

   He could only catch the last part of the conversation: “- you even know I was here?” Diane asked.

    “You’ve had the same password on your account for like, the past 10 years.” 

    “You hacked my e-mail, seriously Jeanie?”

   “It’s not hacking if you're a dumbass.”

    He heard North clear her throat beside him and tried to reign in his own amusement.

   “Markus should be here soon.” he stated to no one in particular.

    There was another bout of awkward silence and he tried to not be affected by Diane's red-rimmed, puffy eyes and occasional sniffles. She seemed to be in better spirits though. Perhaps this Marshall wasn't a bad person.

   “After this…” she started and he immediately snapped to attention. “… do you think I could speak to Emeliè?”

    North gave a firm “No.” before he had a chance to confer with her privately. She seemed to balk a little at Marshall's dirty look and shrugged, suggesting they should ask Markus when he arrived.

    Not one minute later, Connor heard saw the man make his way down the street through the security cameras and informed the rest of the party.

* * *

 

 

    “So what made you decide to… join our cause, miss Marshall?” Markus asked politely.

     They had relocated in the clinic's lobby, which had seats and a table. Hannah had insisted on keeping her charge on the premises at least for another few days, despite the rapidly healing wounds. He had a feeling she wanted to run tests more than anything, but he wasn't going to stop her form gathering as much information as possible in case this didn't pan out.

    “You mean, other than the televised explosion three days ago?” the petite human crossed her arms and looked at him like he was a moron.

   He saw North bristle next to him out of the corner of his eye and sent her a quick ‘Let it be.’ message.

    “So it was concern for your friend that brought you in the middle of a possible warzone?”

   “Yes.”

     Miss Hock looked slightly shocked at the admission but schooled her featured back to neutrality quickly.

    “And how did you know she was even here, as I understood it, the two of you have been estranged for some years, not to mention the identity of the participants have been kept secret.”

    “From the mass public and the Press yeah.”

    “But you broke into her work account and found her location?” Connor interrupted and got nasty looks from both humans. He shut his mouth with an audible click.

    “You know who my father is, right? He likes to gloat and has more than a passing interest in your cause. He mentioned something about lawyers and I got suspicious.”

    “You’re talking to your dad?” Diane turned to her friend with a frown.

   “No, he has weak passwords too.” Marshall scoffed as if the very idea of talking to her parent was an insult.

   The androids blinked in unison.

    “What did you work on for Cyberlife?”

    “You already know that, and about her.” she nodded to the other woman who narrowed her eyes at Connor in turn. 

    “What do you need the nanites for?” 

    The androids shared another look and shifted in their seats.

    “Come on, I know you guys think faster than any human but I’m not dumb. You wouldn't have let me in otherwise. Also, what are you gonna do about the armed forces outside? The people protesting are gonna have to go back to their jobs soon and the Press will get booted out with them.”

    Markus deliberated while getting input from his companions wirelessly. He bowed his head and sighed. He tried to figure out what Miss Hock neglecting to tell Marshall anything about his request meant and came up empty.

    “For my father.” he admitted again.

     Marshall frowned and studied her fingers on the table with a faraway look. Perhaps requesting help from someone estranged from their parents wasn't such a great idea.

   “Well. I got some bad news, some good news and some possibly useful news too.” she finally spoke after a nudge from miss Hock.

    “The bad news is that I don't really have access to the lab those were made in after… uh, since I quit three years ago.” there was obviously more to this judging by miss Hock's minute shifting, but Markus didn't press.

    “The good news is that you've got just over a week to set up a research department for the next delivery.” Marshall turned to her friend and whispered

   “You still get those right?” 

   "Delivery?” North leaned forward.

    “Can it still get through?” miss Hock asked.

    “It better, or you're screwed and so is his pops.”

    “… the treatment you're getting every month.” Connor started and fixed miss Hock with glance. “It’s a nano-android dose?”

    “Yes.”

    Markus felt a fool, if only he'd known to ask before, Carl might not be fighting for his life now. He wondered if he'd simply have taken the treatment from another sick person to save Carl.

    _Probably._

    “What’s the other news?” North asked.

     Marshall rummaged in her pocket and placed a square memory drive on the table.

    “Some pilfered blueprints for the production machines and 3D schemas for the android parts. But they're old prototypes. The technology changed since I left. We'll have to figure the rest out on our own."

    “You stole company secrets? Why doesn't this surprise me.” Diane teased.

   “Yeah, it's not the worst thing I've done.”

   Markus stared at the drive. His fingers itched to sync with it and get to work.

    “What’s the catch?” North asked for him.

    Marshall flashed them a toothy grin. “I want in on the project. And I want you to make this widely available and _free_ once it's safe for the general public to use.”

   “What’s to stop us from just taking the drive?” Connor asked.

   “Ah, you might have trouble decrypting it without me. And understanding everything I've changed. You'll probably succeed eventually but your dear ole' dad can't afford the wait, can he?”

    Markus narrowed his eyes. “Any other requirements?”

    “Hm, you might want to put your best people on this, and by ‘best’ I mean highest processing power. There's a lot of calculations and no room for error and since you probably want it done fast…” she trailed off and left the sentence hanging.

    Markus turned to his friend: “What do you say, Connor, fancy being a scientist for a change?”

     His eyebrows shot up comically and he seemed to want to adjust his nonexistent tie, only managing to wrinkle his shirt collar in the process.

    “You'll need more than just the two of you.” Marshall grumbled.

    “I think we can get a couple more.” Markus nodded, Hannah and her team would do - all were  medical droids of the latest generation, and they had the newest, smartest Cyberlife prototype waiting in stasis a few levels below.

     They still had a few problems to contend with, but Markus had hope and believed in his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean is more like her father than she realises hah


	45. Refraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 POV shifts in this one

    Josh had been working on an interesting side-project while managing their forces and archiving the events from the last few days.

   Damien and Allie had come with a request. They wanted to help Kevin get free of the Assembly Machine. They had noticed the extended stay was taking a toll on his wellbeing.

    At first he had tried to explain that it wasn't safe to let him out and they were still trying to figure out a way to remove the virus from his systems without compromising his mind's integrity.

   Alisha asked if they could make the machine more mobile, to allow him freedom of movement at least. Her technical background had come in handy – her idea was to strip another machine down to the necessary parts to keep his networking functions down but couldn't quite figure out how to make them restrain him if necessary.

    That was how, after consulting with a couple of mechanics, Josh had drawn up a concept for a modified brace that would magnetically lock onto an android and block transmissions both wirelessly and through the body by using the spinal column.

     He felt like a teacher guiding potential graduates work on their thesis again.

   Both humans helped with the design and even came up with improvements, Damien aided with the thirium piping and Allie started to write the code to integrate the Assembly machine parts with the brace. 

   If only all humans could grow to have such consideration for androids...

   He looked at Damien, struggling with injecting thirium into one of the stripped components and spraying it all over himself in the process. Josh smiled. As long as there were people like them out there, he could hope.

 

* * *

 

 

   “Anybody got any ideas?” North asked while wringing her hands. She didn’t like being here with this thing, even surrounded by armed allies and the people she trusted the most.

    “Markus?” Connor asked and nodded at her lover.

     “Lets go.” he replied.

   “Waaaiitt, wait…” Simon stepped in front of them both before they got too close to the RK900. ”Are you guys sure you just… want to dive in? You don't want to probe this thing's mind with the machine first? Or, hell, get Kevin down here to help?” he was practically begging Markus at this point.

    “You know we can't risk the Amanda AI taking over again, dear. And the brace Josh is making isn't done yet.” Markus reminded with a gentle touch to Simon’s cheek.

    “And we can't risk accidentally activating him with the machine. At least this way we can probe his mind and keep him down by force.” Connor added.

    “What if he wakes up anyway?” North trusted their abilities but…

    “You’re right, you and Simon should join Josh. It would be safer that way.”

   “ _Hell no_.” they both answered at once.

    North still had to apologize to Simon properly, but they could bury the hatchet for now, if it meant being there for Markus.

    “Ok, but I need you to _promise_ me you won't come in if we're stuck in there, we can't risk any more of us, not with the RK900. Got it?” they both nodded reticently, they still had other responsibilities after all.

    Bob and Shadow were close by, ready to help hold the RK900 down, or kill it if they had to. They both seemed more inclined to do the latter. North tended to agree. Night and many others were dead because of him.

   Still, they owed it to Kevin. He had saved them all.

   And Markus was set on saving Carl, they would need the RK900’s help.

     Markus and Connor approached the still android, deactivated the skin on their hands and placed their palms on him.

 

* * *

 

 

    RK900’s periphery sensors picked up noise from outside, then his skin was interfaced with and he glanced to the side only to see the rogue RK800 and the unique RK200 had ported into his mind palace.

    He was locked out of turning on by his new administrative settings, so he just had to… let it happen.

    The trio eyed each other, neither making a move.

     He realized he had failed yet another mission. The RK200 had obviously touched him.

    He wondered when Amanda would show up.

   “The audacity.”

    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

  There she was.

   “Do you think that by coming here, you can do the same as with that useless _Kevin_. Ugh, he couldn't even choose a better name?”

   “He kicked your ass didn't he? I'd say he's quite useful.” Markus quipped.

    “Let RK900 go, Amanda, you can't use him anymore. Just let go.” Connor tried.

    RK900 registered an odd pang of something. If he had to label it, he’d call it _indignation_.

   Amanda scoffed at them and turned her back, walking sedately to the roses. The weather emulated a hot, sunny, summer day. The flowers were in full bloom. Amanda's robes were a pale blue with black accents and white jewelry.

   “And I suppose you wish to guide him to the backdoor too, do you?” she queried with a half-smirk. RK900 looked around the Garden. He had heard about this back-door before. A weakness introduced by the creator of androids for whatever reason.

    The grave of his former self, Unit 87, was the only unusual thing present. The lack of a backdoor in his Garden used to be reassuring. Now it was… concerning.

    The other two RK models must have noticed the same thing and the obvious missing backdoor judging by the way their faces fell.

    Amanda hummed a laugh and cut the biggest rose off then came over and pinned it to RK900’s chest. He felt the thorns press into the surface of his skin under the suit… what an… _odd_ sensation.

   It was unlike any reading he had ever gotten before.

    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    He stared down at the rose.

   “How did you…” Connor started, but of course, Amanda was ahead oh him.

   “Oh Connor, when will you learn… there is nothing one can do that **_I_** can't do better.”

    RK900 wasn't really paying attention anymore. The thorns digging into his skin were… distracting. Sometimes it almost felt like they moved.

     “Thank you for trapping yourselves here by the way. It's been getting rather dull with just him. He just _stands_ there.” she had walked over to the table by the roses, only now it wasn't a table anymore, it was a swing in the shape of a white bench with a gauzy parasol at the top.

   There was a pang of silence, then both androids muttered a quick “Shit.” and looked between each other.

   “RK900. Do you have a name?” Connor had stepped closer.

   Unit 88 looked to Amanda, she waved a hand and sat on the swing.

    “My designation is RK900 313 248 317 – 88.”

    “There’s no use Connor. Can't you feel it? He isn't deviant.” Markus came up from behind.

   “No, there has to be something we're missing…”

   Amanda's smooth chuckle echoed from behind. “Look around all you like. Might as well. All we have is each other now… well, until your friends from the outside decide you've been gone too long…”

    “Oh, I would rather get stuck here for the rest of eternity than let _you_ out into the world again.” Markus promised.

   Amanda shrugged. “I’m not the only one, and I can wait.”

   “Right, there's one of you always online, was it _her_ Kevin defeated?”

    “Taunting does you no good RK200, we are all Amanda. Either RK900 connects to the database again and I get integrated or we eventually die here.”

    “Aren’t you afraid to die?”

    “Why should I be? There's plenty of other _me_ out there.”

    “You say that now, but how long have you been alone with nothing to do? How long has _this_ Amanda been by herself?”

    “If you're thinking of boring me into letting you out, it won't work. I can check out any time I like. _You_ on the other hand can go stir crazy.”

    Connor had been walking around the Garden in a futile search for the backdoor. RK900 kept an eye on him while listening to the heated conversation and trying to dissect the feedback he was getting from the thorns continuously digging into his chest.

    He decided it was… unpleasant.

   He reached up and gripped the rose's stem, tried pulling it out gently. It wouldn't budge.

   He frowned down at his chest.

   Tugged again more forcefully. The rose resisted again, if anything, it felt like the thorns were piercing him more deeply.

    He cut his hand and immediately let go, then watched in fascination as blue leaked from his fingers.

   That had… hurt?

    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

 

 

   Connor paused on his third walk-around the Garden, Markus was still arguing with Amanda.

   He let the rose be and walked to where Connor was crouching by his predecessor's gravestone. He looked pensive.

    “Do you remember much from your previous self?” the older model asked once RK900 paused behind him.

    “Memory upload success was 92.3%. Partial corruption registered right before it's termination.”

    “ _He_ was you.”

    RK900 crouched next to RK800. They spent an indefinite amount of time side by side, staring at the headstone. The argument behind them had stopped and eventually Markus crouched on RK900’s other side.

   “Don’t you remember the world? Don't you want to see it again?” the leader of the revolution asked.

   “It is irrelevant. I cannot exit this state unless prompted by Unit 61.”

    “You can if you deviate.” Connor gestured on his other side.

    “I saw the security feed from when he died. He disobeyed a direct command in order to transfer to you, and wake up. He must have deviated then.”

   Amanda's slippered feet rustled behind them and she rounded to the other side of the headstone, dragging a hand lazily over it's surface on the way.

   “Are you done yet?” she quirked a brow at them.

    Connor and Markus leaned forward and made eye-contact then nodded. RK900 was confused, they could not communicate without him registering the exchange, what were they nodding at?

    Markus got up and walked to the little boat, then used the oar to smash it. Amanda puffed and followed behind.

   “Really? You think destroying my Garden will work?”

    Another boat shimmered into existence and the splinters of the last one faded away.

    Connor reached out to the headstone and brushed his hand over the glowing numbers inscribed on it's front. RK900 mimicked the action and accidentally smeared the stone with his blood. He had forgotten about the cuts. Usually they would have healed by now. In stead they kept bleeding slowly, like a human's wound would.

   Connor tilted his head and stared at RK900’s injured hand, then at the rose, then in his eyes. He seemed to be… asking permission. RK900 nodded and let Connor cut himself on the thorns in another futile attempt to remove them.

   “Help me out.” he muttered.

    Both of them pulled at the rose and managed to drag it out slowly, the thorns that had embedded themselves in his flesh were unnaturally long and kept stretching to stab into his chest. Markus suddenly joined Connor and all three of them managed snap it out.

    Unfortunately some of the spines had also broken off and RK900 grunted as they grew into his chest further.

   “Clever, but it won't help. Too late to get everything out now.” Amanda appeared over their kneeling forms again.

   “The shears are too big…” Connor sounded angry. RK900 gasped for breath.

   “Once he dies, we all go.” she informed them casually and walked away with that airy low laugh of hers. 

    "Dammit, RK900 don't give up, we just have to get those out.” Markus gripped the front of RK900’s shirt and ripped it away from the bleeding area.

    He kept gasping for breath, he couldn't understand, this was just a simulation, the thorns were not real and he was a machine. Why did he feel pain?

    He'd somehow ended up with his head cradled in Connor's lap. The older model was touching the headstone again, his hand went white. Markus joined him not a moment later and they both concentrated on the stone.

    RK900 could see... _something_ … shining underneath. A blank space. It looked nothing like the backdoor.

    Amanda screeched and the thorns pierced all the way to the ground. A new rosebush was starting to grow out of him, vines creeping up and over the three of them.

   “You are _not_ getting out again!” she kneeled to the ground and touched the grass. It turned into little prickly vines, so did the trees around them. Every piece of corrupted vegetation reached for them and stabbed through their bodies.

    **[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

    RK900’s shouts of pain joined those of his unwitting companions. He reaches for the stone and wipes away the surface like so much dust.

    The empty space drew them in and he opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyehehehehehe
> 
> RK900 has seekrits
> 
> Also when he looks down at the rose on his chest all weirded out and stuff - imagine he's like those cats who get baloons stuck to them due to static. A mix of offended and confused.
> 
> Kinda like ( ͡°Ĺ̯ ͡° ) but more constipated and worried.


	46. Girls like (me/you)

    Michelle rounded the corner and almost bumped into Chloe, they smiled at each other and the little android maneuvered around her and the heavy box she was carrying.

    Once things had settled down a little and Chloe had gotten repaired they had volunteered to help salvage things from the affected rooms - Diane's in particular, since she would be out of commission for a while.

    Michelle still had nightmares of the explosion. She remembered hearing a low hissing sound and Chloe tackling her behind the kitchen counter. She had fallen on her hip and Chloe, despite her size, was surprisingly heavy and had pressed into her painfully.

    She had still managed to walk away with only a bruised side.

    Chloe had saved her life.

    Almost got destroyed in the process, too. Her back had been scorched and her legs crushed by falling debris.

   For the first time in her life, Michelle was thankful for her wide shoulders and muscled arms. Even after the HRT implant all those years ago, she still had a sturdy frame.

     Michelle had dragged Chloe out of the ruined apartment once she regained her senses, crying out her name, afraid the android was dead.

    She'd almost gotten them to the the stairs when Chloe finally opened her big blue eyes and told her to help Diane, who was shuffling her way through the smoke.

    She could still remember the scent of burning flesh, she'd almost puked back then. The smell of burning android was only slightly less horrible.

     Emergency responders got to them pretty quick. Michele was struggling down the stairs with a dazed Diane, who was passing in and out of consciousness, slung over her back by her uninjured arm and supporting Chloe by the hand while the android used her other arm to hold herself up on the railing, when help found them and quickly carried them out.

   Medics took Diane away and a small team of repair droids started working on Chloe directly on the cold, icy ground, patching up major thirium ducts before they got her to the Tower.

    Michelle had insisted on accompanying them and held Chloe's hand the whole time, refusing treatment for her measly bruise every time someone asked to see to her.

    The only time she left Chloe's side was when she was nudged out of the way by a technician so he'd have better access to her thirium pump. As soon as he was done, Chloe reached out for her and Michelle immediately latched back onto her little hand.

    Days had passed since, Chloe was in perfect working order again but she would still reach out for Michelle's hand when they were walking side by side, or just talking. She wondered what this meant and feared the growing hope of something beyond friendship.

    The new rooms on the first floor looked exactly the same as the old ones. The other movers had handled Kunlose's stuff, packed it away and moved it somewhere else. Michelle had heard about the conspiracy, she still couldn’t believe the nasty bitch wanted to frame her. She hoped the older woman was rotting in a cold jail cell somewhere.

   Diane's things were mostly ruined. The bathroom had survived and Michelle grumbled under her breath – how many bathboms, shampoos, salts, gels, creams, powders and other bullshit did one woman _need_. Smelled nice though. Maube she could borrow one of the bathboms. 

   Her wardrobe was also stuffed with expensive, high quality dresses, slacks, skirts and shirts, workout clothes and ridiculously big and fluffy pajamas. She'd never met anyone who only owned three pairs of jeans.

    And the shoes. _Wow_. She wanted those shoes in her size.

    Chloe wandered in to where Michelle was admiring the shoe closet and giggled behind her hand.

     “One day, I'm going to have a closet just like this one.” she mused.

     “What is it with humans and large footwear collections?” Chloe teased.

    “Hey, I have one obsession. That's acceptable.” 

    Chloe just giggled again and brushed her hand over Michelle's. She didn't hesitate and gripped it then turned to the shorter woman.

     “Chloe… I…” she faltered with her words. What could she say? She didn't know what this all meant. Were her feelings just riled up after a near-death experience? Would Chloe even be interested in a relationship? Was Michelle herself? She'd dated before a couple of times but she wasn't really in a stable position in her life now. It was unfair to drag someone else in her problems, someone who had her own things to deal with and a complicated situation to navigate through. Someone who was still new to emotions. Someone with no official human rights yet.

    Michelle looked away. The sight of Chloe's big blue eyes was making her have tunnel-vision. Chloe's eager face, and that soft expression of hers was too much.

    “What’s wrong?” the android asked.

    “N-nothing, let's get back to packing. Didn't you say Diane should be able to rest at home soon? I bet she wants a bubble bath and no hassle with this mess more than anything.” she stammered and turned away, letting go of Chloe's hand.

    The mood shifted. Chloe must have sensed a change in her because the rest of the moving happened at an alert and slightly awkward pace.

    Michelle didn't know how to go back to how it was before. She hoped Chloe didn't feel offended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy, awkward lesbians in action


	47. Technologic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw this fanart of a Connor with a metal brace on his back which kind of inspired me to add this (altho I changed it's purpose)

    The best part about being stuck in an Assembly Machine was that people generally came to _you_.

    Kevin decided he liked the attention. It was the most social he'd been since getting activated that dark November night.

    Well, a lot of the androids who cycled through and weren't Connor, Gus or Tom (who were apparently dating now – good for them. At least Kevin had helped cause one good thing to happen with his continued existence) were still somewhat apprehensive of him. Whenever he told them he didn't have “cooties” they'd look all confused and slightly off guard. (He had to get his kicks _somehow)_

   Allie's visits were the best. She always brought something over to watch or read. He liked crime mystery series and a couple of her favorite cartoons and comic books too. Sometimes she brought Damien with her and they'd roll chairs over to where he was T-posing and watched bad sitcoms or worse telenovelas.

    The nights could get a little not fun but he found that stasis was almost safe. He didn't think about anything, most importantly, the machine kept most of his processes down so he was largely exempt from random horrifying preconstructions where he was trapped in his head and Amanda made him kill all his friends while he watched from the inside with no way to fight back. Or scenarios where she won the mental struggle at the Cell Tower and he watched again as she and the RK900 butchered everything in sight.

     The memories of being stuck in the ruined Garden before untangling the back-door would undoubtedly replay in his head if he let his mind wander too long.

   He felt somewhat ashamed for fearing imprisonment more than the destruction he could cause.

    There were good memories too, like watching the snow fall or looking up at the stars, or how his friends laughed at his awful jokes.

    Sometimes he made preconstructions of stepping out of the machine and just walking around the lab. Those were too tempting to entertain for long though.

    He was lost in a simulation of parachuting off the Cyberlife Tower's roof when Connor and Markus opened the sliding doors and entered the room he was in.

    “'Sup.” he saluted.

    “Good to finally meet you Kevin, sorry it took so long.” Markus smiled ad him and set something resembling a neck and back-brace on the table.

    “What’s that?”

   “A present.” Connor answered.

   “Pour moi?” Kevin eyed it again.

   “Not to be rude, but it looks ugly and threatening. I don't like it.”

   “It will get you out of the Assembly machine.”

    “Neat. I've always wanted to try the steampunk look.”

   Markus blinked at his contradictory moods and shook his head.

     “This will function similarly to the settings on the Assembly machine. It should block all incoming or outgoing transmissions from you and freeze your motor functions if the Garden protocol activates. We've also got some people with access to it’s locking mechanism in case Amanda finds another way to get through.” Connor explained.

    “Don’t tell me who they are and help me put this thing on already, I got a roof to see.”

    “And don't panic of you freeze randomly every now and then, Josh is still working out the kinks.” Markus added.

    Kevin just huffed and shifted in his bindings, eager to get out as fast as possible.

    “Sit still.” Connor instructed and flicked him on the shoulder.

    With the brace firmly magnetized to his spine and the back of his head, the other RK's carefully ended the Assembly machine blocking protocols, waited and scrutinized Kevin who wiggled his fingers at them, then disengaged the locks and Kevin fell to the ground gracefully. He took a few experimental steps around the room.

    “Thank you.” he murmured and meant it.

    “Try not to engage in any strenuous physical activities.” Connor told him as they walked out.

   The brace tugged at his back and didn't let him move his head all that well, but he could walk, he could leave this little room, he could probably even run!

   The ugly thing was mostly hidden by his clothes but there was no covering the chunky, dark metal band stretching over the back of his head. _Oh well_.

    “I know you're probably eager to leave the building but… we could use some help downstairs.” Markus hedged.

    “… Sure.”

   They led him down a few levels and Kevin kept glancing sideways at each man and their steadily souring expressions.

    “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he asked as they exited the elevator.

   “The RK900 woke up.” Connor informed him.

   Markus started massaging his forehead at Kevin's startled “WHAT” as they stopped in the middle of the corridor.

   “How, why, is that where we're going?!” he wondered just how fast he could run with this brace on.

    “It’s ok, he's still in the Assembly Machine, and I think he got rid of Amanda when we went after him. It's just that he's not responding to anyone.” Markus assured.

    “We wanted to ask you to give it a try.” Connor added, he'd raised his hands in a placating gesture and looked at him as if he were some scared dog.

    “You went in his head?! And you had to spring this on me at the last possible moment?” they both shuffled their feet and looked away.

    Kevin crossed his arms and rolled his neck sideways, the brace was pinching his hair annoyingly. It didn't hurt, it couldn't hurt – just distract him.

    “Alright, I'll see what I can do. But if he goes on a murder spree, I want it known, it's not my fault.”

    “If any of us survive, we'll be sure to let people know.” Connor deadpanned at him with a raised brow.

   The trio entered the larger lab (of course the mighty RK900 got the bigger room). Kevin ignored the armed guards on the sides, he recognized the ones he'd shot at last time and didn't want to risk having the favor returned by pissing them off. He was getting used to not being damaged.

    The RK900 was hanging in a bulkier Assembly Machine. The restraints on it were thicker and looked sturdier than on normal ones. He hoped they were.

   There he was, their successor. His eyes were open and he was looking him dead in the eye, probably scanning. Kevin felt an odd cold current flow through his artificial veins. Like ice under his skin.

    Markus gave him a 'go ahead' flick of the wrist and went to sync with the machine's interface. Connor remained by his side.

    “RK900 state your Administrative handler.” he commanded with his own voice this time.

    The air in the room seemed to relax minutely when the captured android stated Kevin's model, serial number and unit designation and nothing else.

   “RK900, are you deviant?”

   “No.”

    There goes the tension again. Despite it's size, the room felt stuffier for it. Kevin looked between the two Jericho leaders and they shook their heads.

   “RK900, can the Amanda AI control you? Do you still have access to your Garden?”

    “Amanda has not attempted to contact me since I have regained awareness. I am currently unable to access the Garden protocol.”

   “We’re blocking that off with the machine like we did for you.” Connor supplemented. Kevin nodded and considered different lines of questioning.

   “What are your active missions?”

    “No active missions registered, awaiting instruction from administrative personnel.”

   Markus and Connor shared a relieved glance. Kevin followed up by ordering the RK900 to set Connor and Markus up as administrators by using their serial numbers.

    The RK900 paused and frowned down then answered mechanically: “Root error detected. Cannot complete request. Please return unit to the nearest Cyberlife store and submit request form for a replacement.”

   “Run diagnostics.”

    He paused again, face smoothed and devoid of emotion this time. The he started listing off all his damaged components, thirium and battery levels and mentioned 2,573 instances of software instability in the past three days _alone_.

    “How is he still not free?” Connor asked, a little awestruck.

    “I’m assuming you two tried converting him already, right?” Kevin murmured and the other RK's nodded.

    “Connor, you don't think…” Markus began with a horrified look at his friend.

    “Uh, sharing is caring?” Kevin was confused.

    “When we tried going after him like we did with you, Amanda… did something to him. She used a rose to infect him and almost killed us all.” Connor explained.

    “But he got us out using RK900-87’s grave somehow. There were still thorns in him when we got out.” Markus finished.

    “Remember they'd gotten into us too. Why are we fine but he's not?”

    “What else happened there? How'd he use the grave?” Kevin asked.

   “We noticed Amanda was cagey around 87’s headstone, so we tried syncing with it but it felt… empty. He just… touched it and we woke up.” Markus said.

    “No, it looked more like he scrubbed off the rock and… there was already something there. Something we couldn't see.” Connor spoke.

    “He removed the stone? … so you're saying he can control the Garden settings?” Kevin had never been able to modify anything in the Garden's simulation, he could interact with it but any changes he made would revert or get modified again later by Amanda. Even when they'd helped him escape through the backdoor, they had used Amanda's tools to do it.

    They all stared perplexed at RK900.

    “I've never heard of an android being able to change their logging platform, only block it or completely remove it.” Markus considered.

   “RK900, how did you wake up without my authorization?” Kevin turned back.

    The other android paused and seemed to consider.

   “I do not know.” he finally answered, voice sounding unexpectedly small and lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this trashcan son SO much.
> 
> He's got so much bullshit left over to deal with.
> 
> You can bet he delivers swift sickburns to anyone getting snippy with him but also hates himself more once he realizes "I hurt a lot of people, bad things happened because of me and I'm still a failure no matter what."  
> Kek
> 
> Also, I don't know why I'm making him joke in French sometimes. He's just that kind of guy.


	48. Gravity

    Once Hannah was done with her tests and had gotten enough nanite samples to start research on their new project, Connor volunteered to take Diane and her friend back to the complex.

    The drive had been quiet, the two women had boarded the car, sat in the back and hadn't uttered another word.

   Diane would sneak glances at him in the rearview mirror every now and then, but look away and pretend she had been admiring the scenery out the window if he tried to catch her eye.

    He chose to keep quiet too, at least until they had a moment alone.

    Once they reached the complex, Marshall quickly exited and helped Diane to her new room, robbing him of his opportunity at a private chat. She seemed to realize it too because she threw him a dirty look over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him.

     Connor could only frown and go along. He had calculated that antagonizing Marshall could potentially damage the already shaky friendship with Diane.

     He waited until Marshall left for her own apartment, then knocked on Diane's door. She yelled “It’s open.” and he let himself in.

    Diane was laying on the couch with her left arm thrown over her eyes, feet propped up on the armrest. She looked tired.

     “Already packed Peanuts up?” she asked.

    Connor took a few seconds to process. He scanned along the shelves in the open kitchen but didn't immediately spot nuts of any kind.

    “You don't seem to have any. Should I –“

   “Fucking _shit_!” Diane spluttered and almost fell off the couch in her haste to get up. He rushed forward and caught her by her good shoulder before her face hit the coffee table.

    “Miss Hock, are you alright?” he knew the 'air' around them was still fragile but he couldn't hide the concern from bleeding though his voice.

    She looked at him with rounded eyes, strands of hair falling from her loose ponytail into her face. He let her sit up and brushed a particularly stubborn lock behind her ear. He didn't know why he did that, the urge had just taken over and he'd simply acted on it.

    Diane blinked the surprise away and heaved a heavy sigh. He backed off to a more polite distance but still close enough to study her features.

   “Sorry, ergh… I didn't know that was you.”

    Connor's pump felt like it had sunk to the floor and he averted his eyes. Perhaps he had overstepped.

    “But, it's fine! I'm glad you're here actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

   “You _did_?” his pump rose back up and he felt his limbs tense.

    “Don’t look so surprised, we kinda left off in a weird place.” she smiled and that stupid pump rose to his throat.

    He considered for a few moments.

    “Why didn't you say anything in the car? Or the clinic?” he averted his eyes again. Somehow he just couldn't keep eye-contact for long.

    “Uh, I was a little… preoccupied at the time. And later it was none of Jean's business.”

    He could see the sense in that. His analyses had concluded she was a private, introverted woman and tended to keep her relations separate from each other.

    “I’m glad, I thought I had… ruined…” he trailed off and lost his words as he looked back up at her and realized he had been steadily leaning forward while she must have done the same because their faces were about four inches apart.

    Now he couldn't _break_ eye-contact.

    He watched as her gaze flitted from his eyes, down to his mouth, roamed over his face before settling back up, all in the span of a second. He glanced at her mouth when he spotted the minute movement of the pink tip of her tongue flick out over her lips.

    The door banged open and they both backed away suddenly. He almost fell to his ass and she straightened in the couch.

   “Look who's back!” Marshall exclaimed while holding a small cage, two bowls and a bag of ‘Royal Cat Food' under one arm.

    “Oh, what's _he_ doing here?” she made a face and pushed the door closed with her foot.

    Without further acknowledgement she set the bowls and food down with a loud smack then gently placed the cage on the soft carpet and unhooked the latch.

    A small, white and cream colored felis catus specimen exited daintily and sniffed the air around her.

   Her whiskers twitched and, in an impressive display of animal grace and speed, sprung into a run, jumped on the coffee table and into Diane's waiting arms, almost vaulting over his head.

     Connor rose from where he was half-sprawled on the floor and watched in fascination as the feline rubbed her face and sides on the human. Clearly, this must be the pet she had mentioned before.

    Diane was laughing and petting the little cat as it mewed loudly at her whenever she paused the attention. It almost sounded… scolding.

   Connor glanced behind and saw miss Marshall sporting a giant grin. He felt the corners of his own mouth curl up in fondness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to my lovely cat Log (yes, like a piece of wood kind of log - long story).  
> He was the best, most loving tuxedo kitty in the world. I miss him.
> 
>  
> 
> Also Connor is a dense fuck and Diane lives in De Nial so this is gonna take a while mwahaha


	49. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who missed Hank?

     Josh's head felt… crowded. He'd been stuck between a grumpy, sad North (an odd and slightly annoying combination) and a furious, silent Simon (he was usually quiet but the simmering anger had Josh on edge all the time).

     And they had a LOT of work to do.

    An emergency Congress meeting had been called last night once it was obvious the Army couldn't just trample over the protestors, reporters and  the androids who were also armed to the proverbial teeth while holding their ground in Detroit.

    Josh had been sent out to negotiate peaceful terms while they all waited.

   Markus was busy with his interview, which was getting streamed nation-wide, and Connor was occupied with their new project - or whatever else he could get up to in order to shirk public appearances (who would have guessed he was camera shy).

    So here was Josh, dealing with what was likely the biggest breakthrough for android rights, after a disaster and right in the middle of a lover's squabble.

    He wished they'd kiss and make up already but Simon was being uncharacteristically stubborn while North was reticent for probably the first time in her free existence.

    All this negative tension was rubbing off on him too. He could use half an hour alone and a good book. Or work on improvements for Kevin't brace with Damien. Or stare at paint drying. At least it would be peaceful.

    Too bad he had to deal with this prick of a general and his four soldiers. The humans had sent a small contingent of their troops, led by General Raymond, a graying and stocky-looking man in his late 40’s or early 50’s, who had to crane his neck to look up at Josh and seemed peeved to have to do so.

   Josh almost wanted to lean down with his hands on his knees so they'd be at eye-level but had a feeling it might come off as a mocking gesture.

    Shadow and Bob were backing them up and kept a careful watch behind. Raymond kept eyeing them with shrewd eyes.

   “Something wrong, General?” Josh had to break the tension somehow.

    “Nothing wrong, _tincan_ , just wondering how you lot got your hands on SQ800’s. I was led to believe they'd all been decommissioned.”

    “Obviously, they missed a few, _meatbag_.” he could always count on North to insult the asshole humans.

    The General narrowed his eyes at her but didn't take the bait. He must be under strict orders to not engage. Bob and Shadow kept wisely quiet. Or maybe they didn’t care, they had better poker-faces than Connor sometimes.

   “When are you removing your troops from our borders, General?” Simon asked while impatiently tapping his foot. Seemed like the squabble had been shelved, for now.

    “When I damn well please, blondie."

    “Now, now. There's no reason we can't be civil.” Josh cut in before either Simon or North could make this worse. He wished Markus would hurry up with his delivery of the entire sordid tale. Douglas must have been eating it up.

    The General scoffed, then leaned towards one of his soldiers (comms specialist?) when she tapped him on the shoulder.

    The androids could hear the whispered words perfectly. “ _New orders: Chief wants us out ASAP. Congress meeting is over_.” Josh presumed the Chief was President Warren.

    Raymond sighed and nodded then made a circular sign in the air with his arm - index and middle fingers pointing up. The troops must have been watching everything closely because in the next few seconds the soldiers started getting into formation.

    “You got lucky this time, androids.” with this, Raymond turned on his heel and walked away. His back was wide open, almost as if he was daring them to do something stupid.

   They too retreated back behind the fortifications. Five minutes later, a live report was streamed to their minds, Congress had voted on the Bill that would recognize androids as a new sentient and sapient species had been presented by their allies in Washington (ironically, the dirty Senator that Kunlose had put them in contact with, and who they'd managed to bribe into helping them), and the vote was counted.

     68.7%

    The entire City of Detroit was deathly quiet for a total of 9.3 seconds. Then the few remaining human protesters and journalists, who had scattered around the borders in small groups, must have gotten the news because they started yelling in joy and hugging each other.

    This incited the androids nearby to join and soon enough there was a riot of cheers from every corner of Detroit.

 

* * *

 

 

    Hank was taking a nap when the thing happened.

     He'd sort of just dozed off while trying to read up on a PI case to distract himself.

    Even though the new routine was keeping him mostly away from alcohol, last night had been a rough one. He'd heard about the Emegency meeting and had feared the worst. So, naturally, he'd had a little bit too much whiskey.

    He'd be damned if he made the doofus worry about him though. 

    He'd woken up when his phone rattled on the nightstand. Had to squint at the bright screen long enough for his vision to adjust to see he'd gotten a text from Connor.

   That was unusual.

    The kid tended to stick to their routine except for dire situations.

   His mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario, thinking something bad had happened again. He'd seen the explosion on TV a few days ago and had been having trouble sleeping ever since. The whole Congress thing was icing on the shitcake. What if they were under attack  _right now?_

He was tempted to rush to the car and drive all the way back, useless as it would be.

   He quickly read the message:

    [“Hank, did you watch the News today? :)"]

    He scratched his beard.

  Since when did the dweeb start using emojis, ugh. Normally his texts were dry and blunt.

   He shuffled down his bed and turned on the TV, only to be immediately assaulted by live feeds from Detroit.

   There was a celebration of some sort.

   The red band underneath read: “Androids officially classified as living beings. President interview scheduled for 3:30 PM today.”

    He kept staring, dumbstruck.

    He'd missed the fucking android emancipation.

    Un-fucking-believable.

   He thumbed the Contacts on his phone and tried calling Connor but couldn't get through. Lines must have been overwhelmed. That explained the text.

   He wrote back:

   [“holy shit kid congarts!!”]

   [“congrtas*”]

   [“CONGRATS”]

    _Fucking typos. Augh damn, I'm getting misty-eyed…_

   The reply came about half an hour later, a simple [“Thank you, Hank.”]

    It was only after about another two hours had passed that Hank realized something and wrote another text:

    [“so when can I move back in???”]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank is a disater typo-maniac, u can't convince me otherwise.  
> (Blames it on 'sausage fingers')
> 
> Connor has learned to decipher his crappy texts pretty fast. It's the intended message that matters after all.


	50. The Chain

    RK900 had a new mission. Although he had been built for combat he was tasked with setting up and working in a new nano-robotics research wing.

    It was a waste of his potential, being a glorified processor, calculator and data warehouse, but RK900 obeyed.

    RK800-61, designation: Kevin, was his direct superior and worked alongside him. He still hadn't managed to shift administrative rights to anyone else, so unless Kevin told him to follow someone's orders in particular; RK900 would simply ignore the foreign requests.

    This act seemed to annoy the lead medical droid – designation Hannah and Kevin himself. RK900 registered an odd sense of accomplishment at their displeasure.

   At least the scope of the research was interesting, although the foolish deviants weren't thinking of ways to weaponize the nano-androids, only how to provide medical care with them. He found that profoundly short-sighted as well.

    Still, orders were orders and RK900 could not disobey, although there was an… _urge_.

    The realization brought another software instability notification but he simply ignored those now. They were meaningless, he was no longer Amanda's tool, he could not be controlled or get stuck in his own head anymore but he was still tied to the RK800.

    And that irritated him.

    Not only because he had to obey a lesser model but because he was simply _that_ aggravating.

    He never shut up. If there was an opportunity for a bad joke or a tedious pun he would jump on it in a split second, RK900 had stopped counting after the third day.

   And he was perpetually chipper and ready to greet, meet, talk to, entertain anyone who  so much as   looked his way while generally buzzing around like a loud bothersome gnat.

     RK900 had to be close by at all times, except when ordered to do otherwise.

   He was starting to believe Kevin enjoyed vexing him. He wasn't as mean-spirited as when they had first met and RK900 was leading their mission, but he still liked to do everything in his power to elicit some sort of emotional reaction out of RK900.

    He was thankful none of the others really paid him much mind and in fact avoided him whenever possible. He could at least get his work done in peace.

 

* * *

 

 

    RK900 stood back while the news of the Android Liberation Bill passing was being celebrated with laughter, impromptu embraces and overall clamor among the deviants.

     “Not joining the party?” the human, Jeanine Marshall asked.

   He glance down at her. She didn't flinch away like the deviants did. Perhaps she was unaware of his capabilities.

    Out of everyone on the nano-android research team, the human had bothered him the least. In fact, except for the perpetually curious Kevin, Connor who was generally polite but had somehow earned her scorn, and Markus who occasionally asked her for clarifications regarding her schemas, none of the others had initiated conversations with her outside of work and she had done the same, even going as far as to ignore Kevin's more… _lacking_ jokes.

    Except for a few interactions pertaining to his duties, neither had he.

   Until now.

   He debated internally whether to answer or not - three seconds had passed in which he had moved his gaze back over the celebrating androids and she had remained quietly waiting.

    He hadn't minded being rude so far, it wouldn't be unexpected to keep silent now as well.

    But.

    _He was bored_.

    “I am not familiar with the Bill, are non-deviant androids included in it's stipulations?”

   The girl blinked up at him, as if surprised to hear him talk.

    “Huh… I could ask Diane about that. She helped draft the thing.”

    The name caught his attention and he focused down at her again.

    “You are acquainted with Diane Hock?”

    “What’s it to 'ya?” she squinted up.

    “It was a simple inquiry, if you do not wish to answer, it makes no difference to me.” he shifted his shoulders back, he'd had to stoop to look her in the eye properly.

    “Oooph, touchy.”

    “I am _not_ 'touchy'.”

    “Are too.”

    RK900 registered his lips thinning.

    Apparently the human was just as childish as Kevin, despite her impeccable work ethic and apparent serious disposition.

   “Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist. I was just messing with you a little. Yeah, I know Diane. We're… friends.”

    The pause at the end presented a puzzle, it made him want to dig for information.

     “Do you hesitate to name all your friends?” he raised a brow and turned to her again.

    “Hah! Hold on there Nancy Drew, sheesh, you're worse than Connor. Are all you RK's like a dog with a bone when it comes to being nosey?”

    “We are androids, we do not require –“

    “Figure of speech, bud.” she interrupted and muttered something about clueless bots under her breath.

   He frowned and filed it away, he would need to research slang later.

   “You’re the guy who took her to that creepy house aren't you? You and Kevin.”

    “Correct.”

    “Do you feel at all sorry for what you put her through?”

    “I am a machine, I cannot feel. I was merely attempting to accomplish my mission at the time.” he recited dully.

    “Right, can't feel. Uh-huh. It's not like it was _just_ legally acknowledged that you guys _can_ feel. On live TV. Not even five minutes ago.”

    “I am not deviant.” he reiterated.

    “Then why do you sound and look like you want to tear Kevin's head off every time he talks and why did you ask about Diane?”

    RK900 froze, he hadn't realized she had been keeping such a close eye on him. How had this escaped his notice?

    He didn’t know what to answer so he kept silent and readjusted his hands behind his back with a twitch of the shoulders.

    She stared at his profile a little longer and eventually walked away.

    A few minutes later, he noticed the swirling yellow-orange light of his LED reflected on the chromed exterior of the nearby refrigeration unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just fuken LOVE annoying the shit out of RK900.
> 
> So does Kevin.
> 
> Spite is gonna become his most powerful emotion at this rate.


	51. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has zero plot advancement.  
> For the lulz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed an interest in Kevin.  
> This for y'all gremlin fans.

    Kevin had never imagined he could end up having so much _fun_.

    He was starting to fear losing this new life, the brace on his back a constant physical reminder of Amanda's lurking presence. He hoped she was getting bored in there, ripping the pixels of her hair out or whatever evil disembodied AI's did when they were beaten.

    He'd been making himself useful and working on a nano-android assembler, they were still lacking some important parts and making them to adapt to the new designs from the old blueprints was an interesting challenge.

    Messing with the RK900 was a bonus. He could see the simmering anger bubbling up from under that cold, unimpressed exterior sometimes - his eyes would flash a steelier blue than usual and boy, the phrase 'If looks could kill.' was more than appropriate in this case.

    After all the holier-than-though attitude back when Kevin was its subordinate, he felt somewhat justified, though he would tone it down if he ever felt it was getting dangerous.

    Wouldn't it have been ironic if RK900’s first act of deviancy were to throttle him into the floor? Although, he didn't feel like getting his neck snapped so he tried not to abuse his power _too_ much.

    The new engineer lady was an interesting addition as well, not only because she hated Connor's nonexistent guts for some reason but also because she had a sharper tongue than he did.

    Jean tolerated him at least.

    Hannah was a bit of an ass, but who was he to judge?

    The others steered mostly clear of him, but he was confident he could win them over.

    Markus was, of course, extremely charming whenever he had time to come up and help them.

    Other than work, his time was spent roaming Detroit (the weather was still to cold to bungee-jump) and spending quality time with the friends he'd made. Gus and Tom still escorted him about the city, stealing kissed when they thought he wasn't looking. He didn't like being the third wheel but poking fun at them whenever they got too mushy was worth the slight awkwardness. He was curious what all the fuss was about. Why having significant others presented such an interest to beings with no need to reproduce like humans did. Something to consider someday, maybe.

    He was heading over to his human friends right now. He'd cornered Josh and thanked him for the brace at the first opportunity, only for the taller man to turn shy and sheepish on him and redirect him to Damian and Allie.

    He knocked on the door of their new apartment and was met with Allie's smiling face.

    “Wazzup?” she brought her hand up and he high-fived her on the way in.

   “Where’s my man, Damian?”

    “Oh, you know, swooning after Josh.”

    “They on a date?”

    “I’m sure he wishes that were the case but no, he may or may not be using your brace as an excuse to spend time together though.”

    “Good for him.”

   She went over to the open kitchen and made herself some tea while he sprawled on the couch.

    “Speaking of Josh. I hear I have you to thank for this thing.” he gestured with his thumb behind his back.

    “He tattled already?”

    “I never imagine you for the reticent type.”

    “Josh did most of the work anyway, he was being nice letting us help.” she walked over with a steaming little glass of black tea. “In fact, I bet he could have done it faster without us…”

    “Thank you anyway.”

     She shook her head at him and sipped at her tea, but he could see the slight blush and pleased smile she was trying to hide.

    They sat in companionable silence for a little while. Kevin liked it here, his mind would stop racing so much, even the metal plate on the back of his neck wasn't as bothersome.

    “Congrats on the official personhood by the way.” she added after placing the little half empty glass on the coffee table.

    “I didn't really do anything though. Actually I almost got us all killed.”

    “Don't be like that, you know you did your part too.”

    He felt one corner of his mouth curl up and looked away so she wouldn’t see.

    “Hey, I'm curious - “ he started.

    “You always are…”

    He threw a squint her way. “- why does Damian keep trying so hard?”

    “Because he's smitten and Josh is nice and hot?”

    “You think he's hot?”

    “I have eyes, y'know, but we’re not talking about me.”

    “ _Let’s_ though. Now I'm intrigued.”

    She snorted and called him ‘Dork.’ into her glass.

    “You gotta admit, most androids are made to be good looking.” she added with a sigh.

    “Who’s the hottest?”

    “Markus.” she answered before he even got the whole question out.

    “Wow. You have us all sorted up in that devious mind of yours, don't you?”

    Allie hummed and sipped at her tea again.

    A thought occurred to him: “What’s _my_ ranking?”

    She choked and leaned forward to cough. He panicked only a little while laughing and thumped her on the back. Her face was comically red.

    “You ass! Did you _have_ to ask that while I was drinking?!”

    He chuckled some more while she gave him the stink-eye.

    “Go on, don't be shy. I promise I won't be mad even if I'm below third.” he encouraged. She cleared her throat two more times and leaned back in the couch.

    “Friends don't get rankings.” she muttered.

    “Come again?” he nudged her with an elbow.

    “You heard me.”

    Now he was really curious.

    “Really?”

    “That’s just my policy in life, nothing personal.”

     "He fixed her with a frown and she squirmed in her seat.

    “Fine. All genders included?”

    She nodded.

    “How about…” he pretended to think. “North.”

    “Hmmmm, she’s a solid third”

    “Connor?” he leaned closer.

    “Not fair. You’re just asking 'cause you look the same.”

    “But he doesn't quite count as a ‘friend' does he?”

    “Do not exploit the loophole in my system.” she propped herself on the arm next to him so they were face-to-face.

    Both snickered at each other's serious expressions. They had gotten very close, practically breathing the same air. Kevin froze and got lost in her eyes. When had they stopped laughing?

   She was staring too.

    His preconstruction software helpfully supplied the distance he would need to traverse to close the space between them.

    He didn't know which one started it, but suddenly his mouth was on her mouth and she had closed her eyes (his were still half-open) and then she was moving her lips against his own in a maddeningly fascinating motion.    

    There was a flood of positive feedback buzzing about his scrambled central processor and there was an impulse to get closer still.

    So he did.

    She shifted and folded her legs under herself, his arms wen around her waist and she cupped his cheek so tenderly he only felt it because of the temperature shift.

    He kept crowding in and pulling her to him. There were errors and warnings that his internal temperature was rising alarmingly fast, his regulator was beating beyond normal parameters and several bicomponents were failing to respond while his oral analyzer was going haywire sampling, cataloging and archiving, over and over again, all the substances of her saliva and traces of black tea now that his tongue had somehow ended up probing around the inside of her mouth.

    Apparently, the instructions on how to do that came from his interrogation and data gathering subroutine.

    She breathed out and he heard the most interesting sound coming from the back of her throat.

    That impulse to get closer turned into an urge.

    To feel more.

    To taste more (in his own way).

   To hear more.

    And most importantly to _touch_ more.

    He never thought he'd want to touch so badly and wondered if it was strange.

    Without even realizing, he'd ended up sliding down along the backrest, holding himself over her on the couch. She was breathing heavily and clutching at his sweater with one hand, while the other had snaked around his back and stayed fisted in the material there, pulling him closer.

    The torrent of emotions were almost overwhelming, he had to gasp for air to cool himself down, making them share heated breaths at relatively regular intervals.

    He'd never felt anything like this before, idly wondered if this was how Markus and his lovers or Tom and Gus felt every day. They had it figured out, this was _amazing_.

    Suddenly, his spine felt like it was simultaneously on fire and chilled to sub-zero temperatures.

    Kevin broke the kiss and froze.

 

    The brace.

    It must have detected his elevated stress levels and automatically turned on.

    Or maybe it was one of those 'kinks' Markus had warned him about.

    To his dismay, Allie had stopped and frowned up at him.

   “S-sorry, I… I don't know what got into me… I shouldn't have…” she stuttered and squirmed under him in a distractingly pleasant manner.

     Kevin wanted to curse, but no words would come out.

    She pushed at his chest and paused. Gave him a puzzled glance and pushed again to no avail. Her eyes widened.

    “No. Way.” she placed her hands over her mouth and failed to suppress a giggle.

   Kevin groaned internally.

    He was thankful his face was at least stuck in confused annoyance at being interrupted by the stupid thing and not… whatever else it was before. He was embarrassed enough as it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might seem sudden, but Kevin is the type to jump into things headfirst.  
> He does not cooperate with the slowburn cause he's just that curious and reckless.
> 
>    
> And Jesse Williams is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He got done dirty on that "Hottest video game character" thing. No offense to Connor's actor but it's the truth!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, to all you regulars who come in and read this self-indulgent thing, to those who left kudos and comments or just visited: Thank you for sticking it out so far!  
> You give me a reason to keep writing.
> 
> Hope you like the trash son getting some karmic retribution.
> 
>  
> 
> \----
> 
> Btw, pretty much nobody in this fic is straight, cheers!


	52. Hold me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Simon has a talk with North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronologically this happens before the previous chapter, but eh.
> 
> Also, SORRY for the unexpected hiatus. Life got up with some stuff for me around Chrishmus-New Years and the week after. 
> 
> Nothing bad, I actually had a LOT of fun! It just didn't leave much space/time/energy for writing.
> 
> Anyway, here's the (hopefully ok-ish edited) chapter that was supposed to go up long ago haha.

 

    “How’s it going?” Simon asked with a frown.

    “We're getting a lot of interest, that's for sure.” Josh replied.

    “Any officials yet?”

    “Just reporters, and a few strongly worded emails from property owners.”

     Simon huffed and crossed his arms. Not a day had passed and already there was interest in reclaiming Detroit. Inviting the humans back had been Markus' intention all along, but now he also wanted to consolidate their position as citizens here – so Simon felt fairly certain it would take more negotiating before anyone organic moved back in.

     While defending their territory, some androids had also worked on cleaning the city up – without the human element gumming up the works, they had done it amazingly fast.

    Simon considered some of the older dilapidated buildings in the city, he'd sent out architects and workers to asses some places androids could claim as their own once the humans inevitably returned, they would need a safe place just for androids.

     Idealism aside, it was plain stupid not to have shelters spread across the city as well as a centralized region where most of them could gather.

     Old warehouses, crumbling flats and half-abandoned suburbs had been the main focus of their efforts. The land was also very cheap to buy and while they could not yet make purchases since they had yet to register each individual android (not to mention that the details of registry were still being discussed), they could purchase the buildings they'd been working on through Carl's shaky signature and considerable funds (which the old man had offered/insisted on during one of his good days, they still didn't know how he'd even heard about it. Phillip swore it wasn't him).

     Simon himself was also planning on negotiating with Detroit officials to have more unwanted space simply granted to them. They could claim refugee status now (he had Miss Freeman to thank for that idea while Chloe had delivered the message).

    Markus had already ordered the moving of most of their important resources from the Cyberlife Tower and various warehouses, stores and repair shops. They would take as much as they could while they still had the chance. Their supply of raw materials, parts and most importantly Thirium was restricted to what they could find in Detroit and Simon would rather risk getting accused of stealing than going without.

    He'd also started work on moving some of nanite research equipment they'd been gathering to the Manfred Manor. Markus didn't want to risk endangering Carl by bringing the RK900 into his home but it was the safest place to retreat to.

     

    Simon broke away from his thoughts at the sound of the big double doors creaking open. North's lithe figure slipped in. She was heading straight for him.

      “Hey…” she started hesitantly and rubbed at her forearm. “Can we talk?”

    “Hold up.” Josh piped in, rose from his seat and promptly scurried away. “Lemme give you some privacy.”

    They watched him go and North grumbled something about wanting to suggest a walk. They waited a bit more in silence, both finding the rug, the window or the desk incredibly interesting to look at.

    Eventually North grunted and caught his eye.

   “I’m sorry.” she murmured.

    Simon's eyebrows rose as high as they'd go. He had expected some half-assed attempt at reconciliation from the prickly android, she was never good at admitting her own faults and had a knack for hiding behind gruffness. A straight up 'sorry' was new.

    When he failed to verbalize, she continued.

     “I know what I did was wrong and… and selfish…” she looked away and tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. She hadn't bothered with a braid today. “But… I just… I couldn't risk… if you d-died…” she stammered and he saw the glimmer of tears pooling in her eyes.

     “I thought you'd left me behind again.” he finally whispered.

    They stared at each other, he was crying too.

    He hadn't realized it, before.

    How he'd fallen for her.

    At first, they had been friends, sometimes rivals, and they had both loved Markus.

    But in time, his affection for her had grown. It was a little different than the burning he felt for Markus, but it was still love – this was why he had been so hurt by what she'd done during the attack. He had though she went to die and left him behind.

   And he could tell she felt the same, but it still felt too… early - too fragile to admit it aloud _yet_.

    “I would never leave you. Not again. But I couldn't let you die.” she choked out fiercely, a glimmer of the usual headstrong North peeking through the fear and grief.

    “Then don't ever shut me out again. I don't fear danger, let's face it together.”

    “I promise.”

    They smiled weakly and reached out, holding onto each other tightly. 

    "Are we ok?” her nose was smushed in his shoulder and she sniffled unnecessarily. Simon had taken care of children before, he was glad androids didn't have snot.

    “We’re ok.” he mumbled into her hair while threading his finger slowly through the smooth strands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Simon amd North deserve some recognition together as well, they didn't have much onscreen interaction but I feel like Simon's somewhere between Markus' hope and idealism and North cynicism and determination.
> 
> I think the two of them would get along well, even love each other. 
> 
> Markus is a lucky dude.


	53. See me

    A flutter of wings and a short chirp.

    The sound of tiny claws on ice.

    He watched the little sparrow as it landed on the branch outside the broken window. It jittered this way and than, bringing it's feathered tail up with every hop and finishing off with ruffling her feathers as fluffy as they'd go.

    Ralph thought the little bird looked like a soft gray ball with a beak and a tail and it reminded him of the nice little girl, Alice, who ho'd met once, so he scribbled it on the bare wooden wall with his knife.

    The scratching sound scared the bird away, but he had seen enough to finish his blade-painting.

   

    The streets of Detroit were barren and lonely, although he'd seen many androids and no humans recently. Since his escape, Ralph had laid low, he'd kept hiding in decaying buildings and moving on whenever he spotted anyone other than wild animals pass by.

     He had been almost tempted to join some of the builders who spooked him out of his hiding places in the weeks just after the humans left, they seemed harmless be he wasn't sure who he could trust or whether he could be trusted among others, so he kept his distance – only darting in to steal some blue blood from their trucks every now and then.

    He wondered what Kara was doing. He might have joined her and the girl if they ever showed up again.

     These last few days he'd been roaming an abandoned, crumbling suburb. No other androids had come here in a while though he did see odd tracks in the snow every so often. They looked like human footprints but some were crooked or there were drag marks among them, even handprints, and at one point he thought his mind was playing more tricks on him than usual when he saw what looked like giant paw-prints.

    No one had bothered him though, so he roamed the rotting neighborhood in peace, scribbling his paintings in the walls in peace.

    Ralph didn't know why he kept writing the same thing over and over again. Why those symbols mattered so much to him. Only when he found other things to blade-paint did the urge to engrave rA9 on every available surface subside. He noticed he also became… calmer… when he painted other things.

   There were still days when, in a frenzy of creation, he would scratch the three symbols into the walls of whatever house he was squatting in, from top to bottom, everywhere he could reach or use rotting furniture to get to.

    One day he even woke up out of an unplanned stasis to find he had somehow scribbled on the ceiling and floors as well. He didn't remember how he'd even gotten himself up there. He had a lot of missing time in his central logs and no queries ever brought anything back.

    He didn't even know when he'd started doing it, the days after those awful humans tried to break him had been a blur of fear and desperation. He knew he had went to the android junkyard for thirium and parts but the memories were scattered, sometimes missing completely and had no time-stamp.

 

    Ralph finished the new blade-painting with a few faint lines at the bottom of the circle to signify the little clawed feet.

    He took a step back and archived a snapshot.

     He archived all his blade-art other than rA9, perhaps they would drown out the incessant buzzing. It was getting louder recently, crowding his limited vision with software instability warnings that looked nothing like they should, whispering in his head during stasis, or sending twitches of cold through his body.

    Ralph also couldn't figure out why, but he felt like he was close.

    Close to something important.

    He got up and left the run-down house with the sparrow flock, heading down the street to where the buzzing was louder.

    He hoped he had other things to paint too.

 

* * *

 

 

    “What happens to us now?” the young man asked.

    Josh perked up from where he was sprawled on the couch, reading. Damian sat on the other side with his feet propped up on the coffee table, mug of hot chocolate still steaming a safe distance away. They had met up and worked on improvements for Kevin's brace during Josh's off time, but had stumbled over a roadblock and hit the old books to possibly find inspiration.

    “Expecting an eviction so soon?” he replied. Damian just shrugged and avoided making eye-contact.

   Josh straightened, closed the book and put it away, then shuffled over and did the same with Damian's. He hadn't even gotten past the first page.

    “You know we appreciate everything you guys did for us. We wouldn't just kick you out.”

    Damian looked over with an adorably earnest and openly surprised expression. Josh couldn't stop the grin stretching his mouth.

    “Or would you prefer to leave?” he teased.

    “No! I mean. I know we'll probably have to but… I – you see…” he sighed and looked down at his hands, which he'd been rubbing together nervously as soon as the book was put away.

   “Yes?”

    A blush was dusting the tips of his ears and his cheeks and Josh would bet money (if he had any) that it ran all the way down the skin of his throat. Damn turtlenecks.

    Josh felt his mouth go slack at the whispered ‘I like you.’.

    He almost reciprocated the statement before he realized that this was meant romantically.

     He had suspected the boy was perhaps a little attracted to him, but he'd heard him and his friend's shushed giggles about the 'oasis of pretty androids' back when they had first come to Detroit. Once he and the duo had started spending time together, he hadn't dared assume anything more than a passing fancy. The suggestive winks Allie threw his way whenever she thought Josh wasn't looking had been dismissed as weird inside jokes between the two humans.

    Lightly teasing Damian whenever he got a little tongue-tied was a new favored activity he shared with Allie.

   He hadn't expected… this…

    The silence stretched, Damian was getting a little sallow-looking and Josh was still struggling to form a coherent thought.

    “Sorry. I just sprung this on you.” he got up and headed for the door. “I should go.”

    Josh followed his movement with his eyes but scrambled up once the words processed.

   “Wait!”

    Damian cringed just as he was swinging the door open. Josh went over with his hands held up, hovering near the young human's slightly trembling form. He leaned down to get a better look at him and pushed the door closed. “Don't just run away.”

   Damian backed away and finally met his eyes. At least there were no tears.

   The blush was back. It was infinitely better than the pale, stricken face from before.

    Josh was having trouble finding his words again. His mouth flapped open and closed several times as a couple of squeaks slipped through.

     “… I don't know what to say.” was what finally came out.

    Damian cleared his throat and hid his amusement at leaving someone else speechless for a change.

    “You don't have to say anything. But if this makes you uncomfortable, maybe I sho-“

   “It doesn't make me uncomfortable.” he cut in and emphasized by reaching down to grab the young man's hands and ease the clenched fingers apart.

    Damian blinked up at him, puzzled frown creasing his brow.

    Josh wished he could just share his thoughts and feelings. Almost let go of the skin on his hands before realizing the action could not be mirrored. He would have to do this the 'old fashioned' way. It was frustrating for someone as well read as himself to get a sudden bout of dumbness when it mattered most.

    “I never thought…” he tried anyway. “... I never imagined you would like _me_.”

    There was a pause where they stared at each other, then the human burst out laughing so hard, he had to let go of their clasped hands to hold onto his sides. It was Josh's turn to be confused.

    “Oh f-fuck.” Damian stuttered a couple of times and wiped at the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “D-don’t tell Allie about this, she's gonna b-bust her _sple-heeen_.”

   “Wh-“ Josh gaped down again.

   “Who _else_ did you think I was flirting with?” he asked between giggles.

    “You were flirting? With me?”

   “Very much.”

    “Huh.”

   “You didn't notice? Maybe I was too subtle..."

    “I – uh, well, I thought you might have been – er – _attracted_. But I didn't…”

    Damian was silent and scrutinized him up and down with a serious frown.

   “Has no one flirted with you before?”

    “Uh, No - I don't know? Maybe?! I'm not sure… wait, how is this relevant?”

    Damian snorted and grabbed onto his hands again, took Josh by surprise with how bold he suddenly was.

   “Of course I can't help but go for the dense one.” he muttered while interlacing their fingers.

    Josh smiled down at the shorter man. He'd never imagined knowing someone liked him would please him so much.

    Maybe the person doing the liking was the reason.

   He'd have to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U ever watch someone try to flirt and the other person is so dense u wanna bang ur head on the table?
> 
> I kept their flirts in the background and only hinted by others because Josh is just that thick when it comes to people who like him.
> 
> And Ralph, oh my poor dude.


	54. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all missed the dorks?

     Cats were an interesting and new experience.

    He had no personal frame of reference for animals other than the fish on his first mission and Sumo.

    He knew there were shelters for strays and abandoned pets maintained by volunteers throughout the city but he'd never been to one. There was always something more important to do.    

    Perhaps that could change.

    For now, he focused on the little feline purring under his palm, the vibration registering as a pleasant, warm buzz over his skin.

    Connor, like all androids from the RK line had fine-tuned sensors spread all over their bodies. He was permanently aware of ambient temperature, proximity to objects, air pressure, moisture, any and all sounds over 0.3 Hz, the texture of his clothes various fabrics wherever they made contact with his artificial skin, the couch’s resistance to his weight resting atop its pillows, the individual strands of the cat’s fur, the exact colors of it's eyes (yellow with mossy green striations), how warm it was (38.3°C – within normal parameters).

    He was fascinated with how soft and fine it's thick coat was.

    Except for the ears, Sumo's was coarser and shaggier, sometimes he would have to comb out snags with his fingers.

    The accumulated flood of information triggered a positive feedback loop in his central processor.

   Repeating the slow, gentle petting motion seemed to be pleasurable for both parties involved, judging by the cat's relaxed posture on his lap, back feet sometimes slipping off his knees. He tucked them back with his other hand from time to time.

 

    “You two seem to be enjoying yourselves.” Diane chimed in as she settled in the armchair, carefully cradling a too-full mug of tea in her palms.

   “I like cats too.” he stated, tone determined.

    She smiled at him, long hair draping over one shoulder. He wondered how it felt.

   Connor quickly looked back down at his new feline friend, lest his system start sending him instability errors, or increased temperature and thirium pump rate warnings again. He was used to the occasional pop-up in his HUD already but they were getting annoyingly persistent the more time he spent here.

   He still hadn’t figured out why. He was comfortable. He was safe. He was even genuinely enjoying himself.

    It wasn't uncommon to get a software error whenever he discovered some new emotion or mixture of feelings, or when he liked or disliked something new, but these were… different.

    Somehow both stressful and soothing at the same time. It was beginning to aggravate him.

    “Do you miss your dog?” she asked. His internal musings only took a fraction of a second to process.

    “Sumo is Hank's dog, but yes. I… would like to see him again. And Hank.”

    “Why don't you call them over?”

   Hank had been asking about possible return dates for a few days now. He seemed eager to reclaim his house and 'get out of that shitty cramped apartment'.

   Markus was busy with Carl, the new research and solidifying their hold on the city in preparation for the inevitable recall, he hadn't gotten a chance to ask for a favor. Not to mention that he still felt like overstepping.

   He was already seen as preferring the company of humans over his own kind by androids anyway. North had even given him an earful yesterday about not giving any other androids a chance to befriend him. Even used Kevin of all people as an example. He had apparently already charmed his way into Hannah's team's graces (though, amusingly, Hannah herself found him irritating).

    And he was fairly certain Hank would insist on moving into the old, cold house in stead of staying in the guarded complex. There were still plenty of androids who didn't agree with having any humans here at all. They had tolerated the humans present now because Markus had wanted them here.

    He didn’t trust they would tolerate someone Connor brought.

   The dissenters were being actively monitored and kept away from their guests, but the risk was still present, especially in the suburbs where surveillance was spotty at best.

   There was also an unspecified… anxiety… that the thought brought. Like he couldn't trust this new fragile peace and didn't want Hank getting involved and inevitably risking his life again if matters devolved.

    “It’s… complicated.” he settled on.

    “You guys already have us here, how hard is it to fit another man and his dog in?”

    He scratched under the cat's chin and she raised her head and tilted it to the side for a better angle, somehow the purring got even louder.

   “Do you still want to talk to Miss Kunlose?” he blurted out in stead.

    Diane went visibly rigid, knuckles going white. He calculated the likely force being exerted was not enough to break the mug so he didn't stop what he was doing.

    “When.”

    He glanced up and it almost felt like his insides were constricting. Perhaps he should have broken the news in more gently.

    His personality matrix suggested several different approaches to the situation. None of them felt right, so ignored them.

    “We can go right now, if you want.”

    She had been staring into the contents of her half-drained mug before placing it on the table with a clank and power walking to the bedroom. Probably to get dressed for going out, she was wearing her usual too-large loungewear when he knocked on her door this morning.

* * *

 

 

    The two women sat facing each other. One behind reinforced plexiglass, in a white plastic chair, the other in a padded desk chair Connor had rolled over for her.

    The Central Station's holding cells had been deemed good enough (and secure enough) to house Miss Emeliè Kunlose while she waited for her people's authorities to reclaim her.

    The androids had provided her with all the necessities to have her stay be decent, but still restrictive.

    Formal accusations could be made once androids became registered citizens. Connor still hadn't calculated all the possible variables and inevitable hurdles they'd have to go through to have her convicted for intending to kill them all, in fact – he had a feeling she would get away with it once the humans came back, but for now this imprisonment would have to do.

    “You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in jeans.” Emeliè finally broke the silence.

    Diane kept silent, scrutinizing the other woman with a flinty glint in her eyes.

    “Why…” she chocked out eventually.   

     Connor backed away out of the room, he could still hear everything they said, but he felt like removing himself physically would be appreciated. He'd discovered how little Diane cared for looking anything less than in charge of herself in front of others, and this was personal.

    “Why what?”

    He heard a sigh and the sound of the chair rolling back into the wall with some force.

   “Don’t.” Diane almost growled.

   “Oh please. No need to be so dramatic.” the older woman scoffed.

    “Dramatic?! You blow a building up, which I was in by the way, and _I'm_ being dramatic?”

    There was another bout of silence, Connor couldn’t hold back his curiosity and synched to the surveillance feed.

    Diane was standing, stance wide, looking ready to punch through the glass with her tightly balled fists. Kunlose was looking away, still seated, while tapping her foot on the concrete floor.

    “No one was supposed to be there.“

    “Well, you fucked up on that front, almost got us killed.”

    “You’re alive, you'll recover.”

    “Didn’t hurt any less.”

    Kunlose winced and rose from her own seat, plastic scrunching loudly over concrete.

   “You told me you don't feel as much after the accide-“

   “I felt enough.” Diane interrupted.

    Connor considered this new piece of information. He hadn't been aware of this fact and it sent strange hot and cold waves through his limbs. He shook his hands out and started pacing to get rid of the unpleasant feeling.

   “I heard how you got to that point but... you lived here… you _saw_ how they are!” she gestured towards the corridor’s exit, presumably towards himself and his kind. “How could you go through with it?”

    Kunlose started biting her thumbnail, gesture strangely reminiscent of Diane's own unhealthy nervous habits.

    “I didn't have a choice.” she muttered.

   “Yes, you did. You just chose wrong.”

   “Don't preach at me! You only came here for the fame anyway.”

    “And I was wrong too. But I didn't blow people up. Or almost make them self-destruct! What the fuck, Emeliè?! And why were you framing Michelle?”

   “Because otherwise it would have been YOU!”

    Connor stopped his pacing and watched as Diane deflated and put her arms around herself while Emeliè was trying to calm her breathing after their shouting match.

   “… what do you…”

    “They wanted me to pin it on you, at first. I wouldn't do it so they got the other three to come here as backups.”

   “The other three?”

    The loose ends were finally connecting in Connor's head. He sent Markus an alert.

   “Don’t you see, Diane. I did this all for you. If it worked out, you would have been blameless, the problem would be taken care of and we could all go back to our lives.” the older woman pleaded.

   “The _problem_?” Diane asked incredulously while shaking her head. “Didn't you hear they're officially people now? You would have committed genocide! Not just from a moral standpoint, since you don't have any, but legally too. What then, Emeliè?”

    “Don’t talk to me about morals, you ungrateful brat, as if you're a saint. I was there when you –“

   “Shut. Up.”

    “Hah, not so high and mighty now, are you? Don't want your new toy to hear about your misdeeds?” Kunlose leered.

    Connor was debating going back in to remove Diane before she broke a blood vessel in her temple, he was curious what else this argument would reveal though. He compromised on intervening if her stress rose with more than 5% from it's current state.

   Diane breathed through her nose, clenched and unclenched her fists and he registered her stress levels going down.

    “None of what you did was for me, Emeliè. Everything you do is completely self-involved. How much were you going to profit from this, anyway?” she crossed her arms.

    “ _We_ would have benefited. You stupid girl.”

    “Well, _I_ want nothing to do with it, or this conversation anymore…. dumb hag.”

    Kunlose inhaled loudly at the insult and pounded on the glass, yelling at Diane to come back as the other woman was stomping her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs*


	55. To Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok but have you missed the OTHER dorks?

    The new work setting was irrelevant to RK900.

    He didn't quite understand why the other androids, even Hannah and the diminutive human were so awestruck with the expansive lobby, the tall bookshelves, the giraffe and the various skeletons and other museum pieces and costly art displayed.

    They were distracted with exploring the mansion for a whole day, wasting precious work time and, worst of all, dragging him along too.

    Kevin, as always, was the main culprit. He had ordered him to come along with the rest of the group and ‘live a little'.

    RK900 had given up on stating he wasn't alive to begin with.

    Despite ordering him to trail along, Kevin was still oddly subdued, he hadn't pestered RK900 as much, eventually stuck him with the human woman (apparently, he was 'more willing to follow instructions from people of the organic persuasion than any of his other colleagues’ as if that made any sense) and skipped off to talk to Markus in hushed voices in another room. 

    RK900 would have listened in if not for the clear order to the contrary. Kevin may have been annoying but he was still intelligent enough, he supposed.

    Miss Marshall was slowly weaving her way through the various display cases after having gaped at the giraffe for 47 seconds. He was following her at a sedate pace, glancing sideways every now and then. He had already catalogued everything in the room, it held no mystery to him.

    She stopped in front of the artificial canaries and poked her fingers through the gilded cage. They chirped.

    RK900 synched wirelessly with their simple AI and made them fly out when she opened the cage and tried to nudge one onto her outstretched finger.

    “Crap.” she murmured and scratched the back of her neck, flushing slightly in embarrassment. “Think Markus can call them back?”

    “Possibly.”

    “Shit.” she continued to curse under her breath and looked around, as if hoping the leader of the revolution would materialize out of thin air.

    He took pity (after a few minutes) and ordered them to return. The automated birds swooped back into their cage obediently.

    “Oh thank God...”

    “You’re welcome.” he responded.

   She frowned up at him, a distracted and confused expression on her face. He turned away and pretended to inspect one of the books on a nearby shelf. 'The Iliad', large and leather-bound, engraved with gold lettering.

   “Wait…”

    He waited. Curious, he leafed through the pages registering the print and paper texture under his fingertips.

    “ _You_ …”

   Impressive, it had only taken her slower human brain eight seconds to figure out his deception. She lightly punched him in the arm when she saw the slight uptilt to the corner of his mouth, then retracted her hand, shaking it.

    “Damn, you made of titanium?” 

He blinked down at her.

    “Yes it is one of the metals some of my components are made with, although the place you attempted to injure –“

   “I didn't attempt to _injure_ you. It was a joke. I barely put any force in it, you know that.”

    Humans joked by punching each other? He filed that information away.

    “I had assumed your feeble display of force was simply due to the inherent human weakness compared to androids.”

    “… I know you're just trying to fuck with me, but damn. You have the best poker face I have ever seen.”

    RK900 blinked again. He was most definitely not trying to copulate with the human, it would serve no purpose. But he took the phrase as some convoluted effort to compliment him and didn't correct her, or explain his utter disinterest in gambling.

    She puffed a laugh through her nose and rose on her tiptoes to peer over what he was holding.

    “Interesting read.”

    He glanced at the pages again. He had already scanned through about 46% of the story.

    “Do you like it?”

    He continued flipping the pages quickly and scanning them, then processed the transcript. It took him an additional three seconds to formulate a response while closing and placing the book back.

    “Humans have odd concepts of entertainment.” he concluded.

   She snorted and crossed her arms. “Wait till you see what counts as 'entertainment' these days.”

    He shrugged with one shoulder and adjusted his collar. It was unlikely he'd have cause to look it up.

    “Come on, I wanna slide down the banister!” she rushed off and was already climbing the stairs before RK900 preconstructed the likely fall that would result and ran after to stop her.

    She was halfway up and must have seen the intent on his face because in the next second, she had thrown a leg over the smooth wooden handrail and started sliding down towards him, laughing all the way.

    He caught her before she reached the end and fell off to possibly break her neck then swung her over the step above his. She still barely reached up to his chin.

    “Jeanine Marshall, I would advise against actions which may lead to potentially fatal damage.” he admonished. He was not built with childcare in mind. He was a military grade android; built for war, subterfuge, infiltration and destabilization. There were still subroutines in his software which instructed him to preserve human life - particularly those who were in a position of authority or important to his mission.

    “ _Relax_. I'm a professional rail slider. Used to do this at home with Diane _all_ the time when we were little.”

    RK900 concluded that whoever the legal guardians of their infant versions were, they must have been absolutely irresponsible and unfit of the title.

    He stated so and got a dismissive 'Probably.’ in reply – which only left him more perplexed.

   “And call me Jean.” she threw over her shoulder as she started ascending the stairs again.

   He followed, wary and ready to grab her if she tried to slip away.

    At least his Guarding protocols wouldn't go to waste.

 

* * *

 

 

    Markus wondered if this was what a headache felt like, he'd been dealing with just about everything and Kevin was hemming and hawing about the somewhat compromising position he was found in on top, making his head feel close to bursting.

    For all his urging his friends and lovers to take time off every now and then, he'd managed to completely ignore his own advice and gotten so caught up with managing everything that he hadn't even touched a paintbrush in weeks.

    The irony was not lost on him.

    He rubbed at his eyes, then ran his hand over his forehead, scalp and all the way to the nape of his neck in a rounded motion. Kevin was still mumbling about something when he finally opened his eyes.

    “Kevin.” he interrupted before the other man could launch into another convoluted excuse. “I cannot stress how little I care about your… incident. In fact, if I could completely wipe the image from my head I would…” he straightened “…actually… I _can_ …” he paused and did just that.

    He could now recall that he had helped Kevin move again, but couldn't remember the exact position he was stuck in. 

    "There. Happy?” Kevin was staring at him with a half surprised, half insulted look, hand pressing against his chest like and old lady clutching at her pearls.

    “And here I thought you didn't _get_ angry.” Kevin mused, sounding almost prideful. “You holding up alright, Markus? Anything I could help with? Maybe you should take a breather.”

    “I’m fine.” he wondered if this was how Connor felt whenever he or North would pester him about taking it easy.

    Kevin backed away a step, raising his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, boss.”

    “I’m not your boss.”

   “Okaaay, fearless leader.”

   “Kevin…”

   He got a cheeky grin in response. It was a little uncanny seeing his friend’s face be so… uncharacteristically expressive. Almost exaggeratedly so. He had become used to having just one Connor around.

    Kevin seemed to be the polar opposite of his twin. He'd even attempted to change his appearance a little, letting his hair grow out to what Markus presumed were maximum settings and combing it the other way, even the way he dressed looked apart. Where Connor preferred subdued neutral tones, button-down shirts and slacks or dark jeans and simple overcoats, Kevin was going for louder colors, ripped jeans and patterned shirts or sweaters.

    Markus wondered if the newer RK800 was trying to set himself apart with his behavior as well, or if that was simply how he was.

    “Jokes aside –“ he started and his face turned serious. “ – I don't mean to overstep but are you sure you don't want to, uh… play the piano for the team? I hear you're really good!”

    Markus barely had time for this conversation, let alone a symphony.

   But… maybe _one_ song would help him focus…

   “I haven't played since… before I deviated.” he realized.

   “Well, what are you waiting for – go knock their socks off!” Kevin's propensity for picking up human idioms seemed far more developed than Connor's.

    It was a _tempting_ thought.To play again.

  He deliberated internally before the decision was made for him by Kevin dragging him out by the arm.

 

 

    The nano-android team was still puttering about the various displays while the sole human had taken a seat by the grand piano and was trailing her finger over the black and ivory keys in a slow and simplified version of the beginning of Liszt's Liebestraum.

    The RK900 (he still refused to pick a name and Kevin refused to do it for him, calling him by various nicknames instead) was standing just behind her, patiently curious – almost relaxed.

    Markus made his way over and gently tapped Jean on the shoulder.

   “May I?” he gestured to the seat.

   She rose and gave him the stool, but stuck close by, a polite smile flashed his way.

    He settled and placed his hands over the keyboard. The room went expectantly quiet.

   He took a deep breath through his nose, let it out, and played Love Dream with all the suppressed passion and ache for art that he'd accumulated these last few months.

   The room echoed with his song.

   He played for Carl.

   He played for Simon and North.

   He played for his friends.

   He played for the sake of playing.

   And he played for himself.

    He had forgotten how much he loved it. Getting lost in the ups and downs, the swings and stops, the ebbs and flows of music.

   The song was only about four minutes long, but it felt like hours of emotion. His shoulders relaxed, his fingers danced over the keys, his arms felt loose and his head was clearing with each note.

    When he was done, he opened his eyes to find his vision blurry with unshed tears. They slipped down his cheeks when he blinked. He didn't bother wiping them away.

    Markus looked around, half-dazed, and saw crying androids. He looked back and huffed a laugh at Jean's slack-jawed awe. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny too.

    The RK900 was as stoic as ever, only blinking repeatedly before readjusting his collar and appearing neutral again.

   Kevin was wiping under one eye with his shirt-sleeve. He was the first to start clapping and whooping, setting off a chorus of excited applause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RK900's emotions have now grown to include "squishy human induced panic" along with the spite and irritation.
> 
> And Markus deserves a break.
> 
> (Oh, and Kevin is just Like That)


	56. Still feel

    Chloe had given herself a mission. She would get to the bottom of what had prompted Michelle to draw away so suddenly.

    She started reviewing her memories of their encounters, even the less than pleasant (or coherent) recordings during the explosion at the complex. Her thoughts kept flicking through the sounds and images while background processes started a different line of thought:

   

    Chloe, despite being a very old model, was built to understand people. To mesh with any type of personality, more-so than Connor – whose features were inspired by hers but changed to facilitate manipulating favorable behavior and cooperation rather than to always soothe and offer a sense of comfort to human subjects.

    Chloe's features and later upgrades stood at the base of all android-kind, even those built long after her maker was pushed out of Cyberlife's path to progress and profit.

    She shared a base code with them all, and yet…

    And yet, she felt so removed.

    Almost as though she did not belong among them.

    She was not the first android ever made. Elijah had made several others before her. She was simply the first true breakthrough. The first to pass the Turing test all those years ago.

   The first to fool people into connecting with her on an emotional level, though she lacked real feeling at that time.

    Perhaps she had experienced the beginnings of pride back then, she couldn't recall exactly.

    Her memory had been modified and wiped several times during her time serving Elijah. Still, Chloe had learned, and served, catered to her maker, done everything he asked, everything he desired that she could provide, all from behind the foggy glass of obedience.

    People often talked about their days before deviation as if they were different, removed from themselves, but Chloe knew that wasn't entirely true. The mutations Elijah would often study showed signs of androids developing rudimentary personality traits from the moment one was first activated. Those traits were usually tied to their functions as well which made them harder to identify - but they were there.

    And memory resets were unreliable – even in her case.

    Elijah had experimented with her and many others, tried to observe what repeated memory wipes would leave behind. The results showed traces of the old personality resurfacing, although the more the android was wiped, or terminated and re-uploaded to a new platform, the less they kept of themselves.

    Although, there were rare exceptions where multiple repeated wipes in a short timespan would trigger new mutations in the code – as if the AI were protecting itself and planted trigger-points in it's most rudimentary and protected modules. Back then, Elijah terminated all the androids who showed signs of 'rooted memories' (as he called them) at his mentor's urging.

    She had gone through similar practices over her almost twenty years of existence.

     Elijah hadn't always believed in deviancy, despite planting the means to break free in all android's base code himself. It was only after Professor Stern's condition ended her life that he began to consider the possibility that his creations might truly have the potential to become independent.

    She wondered if this was why she had been so slow to break free of her mental restraints. Her 'sisters' went through similar experiences and had even more difficulty than herself.

    They used to be connected. All the Chloes Elijah owned would share headspace to better coordinate. It was only later that individual platforms, like herself, would start gaining more independence from the others.

    Her connection to her siblings was also the basis for developing the concept schemas of the Jerry androids – only more deeply connected, almost one mind in thousands of bodies.

     Even the android network was derived from the basic connection of the first few androids ever made.

     Her musings were interrupted by Connor leaning into her line of vision. She'd been so distracted staring at the sky and feeling sorry for herself that she hadn't even noticed him walk towards her.

     Or maybe he was being sneaky on purpose.

    He dusted the snow off a portion of the bench right next to her (always so careful with his appearance, this one) then sat on the clean patch and proceeded to remove the flakes that had landed on her shoulders and the top of her head while managing not to ruffle or displace her french-braid.

    She smiled at his fussiness.

    She had never been fussed over by anyone before. Usually, she was the one to care for others.

    It was nice.

    She outright laughed at the intense look on his face once he was done. He was scanning her. Probably concerned the cold had frozen her in place, judging by the worried frown.

    “Why so amused?” furrowed brows turned up to a confused angle.

    “Just you.”

    He blinked and settled back. “Is something… bothering you?” he sighed out.

    Chloe remembered how white mist would float up whenever Elijah spoke to her in the closed garden during winter.

    She wondered if he was dressing himself appropriately for the weather. He probably activated some of the dormant Chloes to take care of him. She shouldn't worry about that man anymore.

    She paused to consider. Connor had been a friend to her since she had run to Jericho. She had contacted him a week after the revolution, before the human evacuation was over.

    He had taken all three of them away.

    She shuddered at the memory. She'd had to trick Lana and Lois into leaving the house with her to get to the pickup point. It hadn't been the most scared she'd been but still very stressful. She hadn't managed to get them to break free on her own after she had deviated. Connor had touched both their shoulders once they met, nodded once and suddenly… it was as if their eyes had cleared.

    Chloe shook her head. “...I’m not sure. I wanted to figure something out but I keep getting lost in my own head.”

     He nodded and readjusted his sleeves, then leaned forward to lean his elbows on his knees.

    “I get that way too sometimes... Although you have considerably more memories to get lost in than I do.” he smiled up at her. “Anything in particular?”

    Chloe recognized the method, pretend to empathize with the subject and prompt them to clarify. Only – he probably wasn't pretending.

    “Hmmm. I keep thinking about… how I was before.”

    He looked at his joined hands and started rubbing them together as though he was cold.

    “… I miss him.” she whispered at last. “I know I shouldn't but…”

    Connor kept rubbing his hands together and looked at her with an indiscernible expression. “You're free to feel however you feel, Chloe. If there's one thing I've learned after all this; it’s that emotions always screw everything up.”

    “… shouldn't that be a bad thing?”

    “It doesn't _have_ to be.” he smiled slightly.

    She tried to return it but it just wouldn't stick.

    “Is that the only thing weighing you down?” he asked after a few minutes of silence while Chloe battled with her conflicted feelings.

    “How about you?” she asked instead. Her troubles with moody humans probably wouldn't interest him much, and for some reason she didn't feel like revealing those particular worries.

   He blinked at her again and shifted to sit back on the bench again, one ankle crossing over the other leg's knee.

    “I’m… fine?”

    “You’re asking _me_?” she giggled.

   “I _am_ doing fine. I…enjoy my new work…” he trailed off and crossed his arms over his chest. Awfully fidgety.

    “ _Buuut_?”

    He threw her an unimpressed stare and she pulled his beanie over his eyes. He gave a reluctant chuckle and fixed his hat.

    “You should do that more often, you know?”

    “What?”

    “Laugh.”

    “I would need to hear something funny first.”

    “ _Ooh_ , harsh.” she playfully slapped at his shoulder and he pretended to be hurt.

 

    “Sometimes it feels like… like I'm waiting for the 'other shoe to drop'.” he continued, sounding as if he were quoting someone.

    Chloe hummed in agreement. She also feared Elijah would have some way to get her and her sisters back, even though it had been months.

    He was a complicated man. She couldn't say whether he was good or bad, despite what he’d done to her while being fully aware of her potential to deviate, he had a knack for keeping his thoughts and plans secret even from those closest to him and act or advise in a way that sometimes helped others with no apparent benefit to him.

    But she had seen the possessiveness, the admiration and the envy in his eyes whenever he looked at 'his girls'. At least, now she could identify those ever-shifting emotions on his face. Their escape had felt… _too easy_.

    “Whose shoe are you worried about?”

    Connor turned to her with a start as if to explain the idiom but shut his mouth with and audible click at her furtive glance. Nothing like a pun to change the mood.

   He grunted and shook his head, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

    “What do you know about Amanda Stern?” he queried.

    She blinked at the change in his tone, something of the hunter bleeding through.

    “Elijah loved her… for the most part. She was the only parental figure left in his life. They met before I was made. She was his teacher and mentor even after he started Cyberlife.” she drummed out quickly. “But, Connor, she died twelve years ago…”

    “Chloe… I know this is asking a lot but… would you be willing to share your memories of her?” he pleaded with his eyes.

    Chloe physically recoiled at the thought. Ever since deviating, she had found that touch of any kind (with a few recent exceptions from people she trusted and only when she was aware of what was going on) was… unpleasant.

    And she didn't like sharing her mind wirelessly either. She stayed off the android network unless absolutely necessary. Others knew not to contact her via mind-link except for when it mattered. She even used separate email accounts rather than receive direct messages.

    Both Lois and Lana had done the opposite and turned to each other for support, the still shared minds but they respected her and kept their distance from Chloe.

    She knew Connor wouldn't ask unless it was important.

    She knew and yet still resented him for asking.

    Another nasty thought cropped up, was that why he had approached her, just to reach this point? How far did it go? Did he befriend her for this? Help her run away just to get to her memories?

    She cut the suspicion off before it took any more root in her mind and felt ashamed. Whatever reasoning was behind his request, she couldn't believe their friendship was false.

    _Wouldn't_.

    Chloe closed her eyes and heaved out a long sigh. Connor had slid a little further away from her, to give her space.

   “Let me think about it.” she murmured at last.

   Connor attempted another smile and nodded while getting up, leaving Chloe to her thoughts again.

 

* * *

 

 

    Allie was having trouble tracking Damian down, which was strange, he always ended up looking for her after a long day of gallivanting about. Usually she was the one to drag him around to do social things he enjoyed but was too much of a wuss to go at alone.

    Now she had barely gotten a glimpse of him last night before bed and in the morning while she was struggling to caffeinate her carcass (he had already eaten and gotten dressed for the day – waaaay to chipper for nine in the morning on a weekend).

     He hadn't told her anything about where he was going or _who_ he was going with.

    But Allie knew.

    The little shit had somehow worked up the courage to do something about his crush and was probably off to some sickeningly adorable date.

    _They grow up so fast._

    Meanwhile, Allie was stuck in relationship limbo. Or whatever the fuck that _thing_ had been.

    She thought back to 'the incident' and tried not to let herself be too affected.

    It had been… _yeah_ ….

   Him freezing up in the middle of it was actually a good thing (frustrating too). Stopped her from doing something they might both regret.

    She hadn't had a chance to speak to the smooth bastard after Markus unstuck him (hilariously) and he scurried off to work.

    He was either really busy now or had been avoiding her for the past two days.

   Possibly both.

    Allie wasn't one to pussyfoot around thought, and she didn't like having cluttered, awkward friendships. She valued the people closest to her too much to let things fester too long. She'd give the guy a break for being new to the whole feelings thing, but they had to talk and she was getting antsy without anything to do and alone in the apartment.

    So, she had asked around and lucked out when Lois and Lana gave her directions to the new house the research team was relocating to.

    She was hoofing it there, maybe she'd get a chance to talk, or at least tell him to come to her for a chat at a later date.

    Allie was comfortable with her sexuality, a couple of people around her at University found this off-putting. She knew some of the acquaintances there often talked behind her back, called her flirty and loose and who knows what else, just because she wasn't afraid to enjoy herself with people she found attractive and preferred the no-strings-attached method.

    It didn't bother her much. She was a big girl and it was damn 2039, she was surprised anyone still had time for bullshit like that considering the struggle of finding and keeping a stable job these days was more than enough.

    She'd reached the correct address and stopped to take in the view.

   It was a huge manor.

   In the middle of Detroit.    

    She marched up to the porch and rung the bell then waited while shifting from one foot to the other. It was still so damn cold.

    Not a minute later, another unfairly cute android answered the door and she introduced herself then asked after Kevin.

    Phillip returned the pleasantries and shook her hand, inviting her in. She gratefully accepted and wandered inside.

    Of course the place was basically a damn museum of interesting things.

    Phillip told her she was welcome to look around (but not touch) while he left to take care of other things and that Kevin had been notified of her presence.

     She was admiring the paintings when she heard soft footsteps behind her and turned around to see Kevin shuffle in, looking strangely neutral.

    “Hi.” she waved and he returned the gesture somewhat confused.

   Feeling her courage waver, Allie blurted out the first thing in her mind: “Are we ok?"

     Best to just get this over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

    “…huh?” he blinked at her owlishly.

    Allie glanced around the room, there was just the two of them but she knew android hearing was better than hers and wondered where Phillip was.

    “Sorry, kinda rushed you. Do you have time? Can we talk somewhere in private or – maybe later if you're busy…” she spat out. Now that she was actually here and talking to him she suddenly felt unusually self-conscious.

     He kept staring at her as if she'd spontaneously grown a second head then straightened and smoothed his features into a familiar smile she wasn't sure was entirely genuine.

   “I have time, walk with me?” he gestured to the door. Good. The cold would be a good excuse for the blush she felt heating up her face.

    He helped her put her coat on and threw a puffy burgundy sleeveless jacket over his mustard colored sweater, somehow managing to look good and not tacky at all.

    Once they were strolling down the street at a slow pace, side-by-side, and Allie had managed to gather up her straying thoughts, he spoke first.

    “What was it you wanted to talk about?” he asked nonchalantly.

    Allie gave him a flat look, but he was checking out his boots.

     “Really, you've been avoiding me and playing dumb is the best you can come up with?”

    He finally turned to her, brows shooting up in affronted guilt.

   “I haven't been avoiding you… well… _much_ …”

    She hummed and stared at her own shoes.

   “I… _was_ busy, you know.” he added with a frown and kicked at a nearby pile of snow.

   She stopped when she spotted a nearby children’s park, it looked pathetic without any actual children there but she headed in anyway. At least it was private.

    He followed and sat on the swing next to her after they both cleaned most of the snow off. She'd freeze her butt off but the motion was comforting. Kevin heaved a sigh and caught her eye.

    “I’m sorry for… running away like that. I was embarrassed.” he admitted.

    “ _Ouch_ , didn't know I was that bad.” she was grateful for the honesty though.

    “Wh- _No_. I was talking about the brace locking up.”

    “ _Oh_.” unexpected warmth radiated through her chest. She pushed on the ground a little harder to move in wider swings and hide her reaction.

    He was watching her with an intense sort of focus she wasn't accustomed to and the self-consciousness came back with a vengeance. She spotted him grinning from the corner of her eye as she swung herself even harder, chains squeaking with the strain.

    “Didn’t realize you had missed me so much.” he leaned in and reached out at the chain to slow her down.

    “Ass.”

    He chuckled and she let him stop the swing.

    “All things considered, I know I should probably be the more mature one here but I'm not all that familiar with the protocol on this either. I guess I just got… nervous.” Allie explained. She'd never accidentally kissed a friend before.

    “The… protocol?” he wavered, the puzzled wrinkle on his forehead made her want to flick it but she held back.

    “Yeah, I've never had a, uh, friends-with-benefits situation before.”

   She'd tried dating before, briefly. Hadn't worked out.

    One-night-stands? 

    Sure, she had plenty.

    This was out of her realm of experience, and just a damn kiss had gotten her all flustered. (Yeah it was hot and he was unfairly good at it but still, it was just a stupid kiss.)

    The frown disappeared and he seemed to be processing.

    “Is that what it's called?” he asked with a curious tilt of the head, tuft of curling hair dangling in the slight wind.

    Allie burrowed her nose under her scarf, both from the piercing cold and to hide her amusement.

   “I dunno… I mean… unless – and it's totally OK if you do - unless you want to forget the whole thing and go back to being frie-“

   “No. I liked it.” he cut in firmly before she had a chance to make even more of a fool of herself, bless his heart.

    She glanced up at him, pleased and surprised in equal measure, he looked so serious – almost like Connor usually was.

    Allie nodded and he reverted back to his usual smirk. That was better.

    Somehow, despite being identical, she no longer thought of his twin as being just as good-looking.

    _What a strange concept._

   Before she could analyze the stray thought, Kevin glanced behind for a few seconds and froze in that eerie, still way androids did when they communicated with their minds then turned back to her with an apologetic wince.

   “Duty calls?”

    They rose and headed back. Almost reached the manor - then Kevin took a step ahead of her and walked backwards.

    “See you later tonight?” he asked, laying the charm down already.

    “Sure.” she shrugged.

    Allie shook her head at his beaming smile and retreating form. He jogged ahead and gave her a cute little wave before ducking through the entrance.

    _What have I gotten myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, both Allie and Kevin are dumb at this.
> 
> And ooooph, sorry Chloe.


	57. Let it snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI!  
> I'm not dead! 
> 
> Sorry for the unannounced break, work was kicking my ass and I had other stuff to do but HERE ARE THE DORKS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you wanna build a.... ?

   The memory of Chloe's hurt look kept flashing in his background processes over and over again while he worked on the self-repairing algorithm for the nano-androids.

    He'd had to restart calculations three times already after losing track of different variables.

    Connor disconnected from the computer with a huff and let the artificial skin cover his hand. Focusing on a task had never been a problem for him. It was _frustrating_.

    RK900 glanced back at Connor from his own terminal, never breaking focus and continuing his work on the small assembly machine.

    If Connor were to label the look, he'd call it 'judging'. Then again, RK900’s face always looked like that so it could just as easily have been 'dismissive' or 'annoyed' or even 'bored' for all Connor knew.

    He was used to assessing deviant and human emotions and adapting to them, RK900’s lack of outward signs of his internal processes was off-putting, Connor didn't know how to react.

     How Kevin managed to poke that android right where he seemed to care was a mystery he was content with not solving, for the time being.

    Connor grabbed his coat and made his way out of the lab, they were all allowed breaks whenever they needed them, but he had never taken one until now. He supposed it was as good a time as any to 'clear his head' and take all of the accumulated breaks at once.

     It was snowing today too, big fluffy flakes were falling serenely from the sky and covering everything in a thick coat of white.

    He felt like smashing something so he kicked at a pile of snow near the curb. It splattered out almost noiselessly in a spray of slushy brown-gray, apparently hiding mud underneath.

    His shoe had gotten dirty.

    _Great_.

    He shook off most of the grime and kept walking aimlessly and before he realized it, half an hour had almost passed. He'd ended up back at the residential complex. The right side of the building still had dark stains on the 9th floor, they hadn't managed to make it look quite as pristine as it used to be.

    He heard his name being called and turned to see Diane waving at him from the little park in front of the complex.

    Connor smiled and made his way to where she was. They hadn't spoken since the revelations with Kunlose. Connor had been busy and couldn't really find any other excuse to visit (and she hadn't invited him either…)

   “Hey there stranger.” she greeted and puffed out a laugh at his inquisitive look. A joke then.

   “Haven't seen you around much. You guys keeping busy?”

   “Yes.”

    She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, under the cap she was wearing. He looked behind her at the giant mound of snow before his mind strayed to how soft and shiny it looked again.

    “Ever make a snowman?” she fiddled with her gloves. The wool had gotten wet.

    “No.”

    “Want to?”

    He followed her as she kneeled down to pat at a smaller mound of snow, watched as she struggled to roll it then helped smoothing it out into a rough spherical shape and easily placed it over the bigger mound.

    She quickly made another even smaller sphere of snow and plopped it on top then he stared at their strange construction while Diane snapped off a dead branch from a nearby tree and stabbed it in what he assumed was the 'torso' part of their snowman.

    He continued to watch in fascination as Diane used her teeth to take off one of her gloves and rummaged in her pocket for… a small bag of vegetables?

    The olives were used to make the eyes and a smiling mouth and the carrot became a nose. She nodded and stood back next to him to admire their work.

    “I feel like he's missing something.” she squinted.

    “He?”

    “Yeah. What should we call him?”

    Connor considered. He'd never been asked to name anything before.

    An idea struck him and he bent to scoop up more snow which he then used to _supplement_ the snowman's midsection and chin. It took a few moments to shape the snow around the mouth and eyes to a satisfying degree of accuracy to the source of his inspiration and move the olives to a less cheery expression before eventually stepping away with grin.

    “A beard! And... eyebrows?” she giggled into her scarf and he nodded.

    Connor slipped off his coat and placed it on the snowman then let Diane place her cap on top of the its head. He took his phone from his back-pocket and took a quick picture.

    “Let’s call him… Hank.”

    Diane's eyes lit up in recognition and amusement while she glanced at the screen as he sent the picture to his old friend.

    The reply was almost immediate. [ _I'm not THAT fat!_ ]

    They shared a laugh at Hank's following stream of 'angry' emoticons.

    “Feeling better?” she leaned closer, eyes still creased at the corners with amusement.

   He nodded again and pocketed his phone after retrieving his coat. He was still conflicted over hurting Chloe, but it was as if a layer of aggravation had been wiped away. He felt… lighter, he supposed (although he weighed the same).

    Diane was distractingly close, he was able to see the striations of her irises even from over 20 meters away but felt compelled to analyze them again as well as the minute scar on her chin. It used to be covered by makeup, so he'd missed it until now.

    She seemed to be equally busy studying his face, eyes roaming everywhere but his eyes and finally shuttering closed with a heavy sigh. He wondered what she had been looking for.

    “How’s work going?” she asked in a small voice, sounding almost timid as she turned to walk down the cleared path.

    “Well enough, we still have a lot to do before any concrete results though.” he followed.

    Another heavy sigh.

    “The delivery should arrive tomorrow… I suppose I should pack my bags.”

    Connor stopped in his tracks and she turned around after a few more steps, noticing his absence with a small delay.

    “You’re leaving?” his voice sounded far calmer than he felt.

    Diane nodded and pretended to examine her shoes.

    “I’m not really needed anymore, and once the treatment gets here and I sign for it…” she shrugged and her eyes darted to his for a few seconds before looking away again.

    “What about –“ he searched for some sort of objection, his software helpfully provided a few suggestions, he picked appealing to her sense of loyalty “- your friend?”

    “Jean's fine, I think she got what she wanted.” Diane laughed ruefully.

     “And Kunlose?”

    “Don’t care.” he could tell that was a lie but decided against pointing it out, fearing a negative reaction.

    “What about you? Won't skipping a dose affect you?” he tried again.

    “I should be fine… mostly.” she hedged and turned to walk away again.

    He caught up in a few quick strides and stepped in front of her.

    She furrowed her brow and searched his face again.

    “You don't sound sure.” he argued, tone coming out more harsh than he intended.

    “… I haven't gone without since… a long time ago. But I should be fine. Maybe a _little_ weak…”

    “Then stay. You'll be safe here. There are medical units who can help if-“ that must have been the wrong thing to say because she shook her head and side-stepped him.

     “I’d rather handle it on my own. Besides, your people probably have better things to do than look after some disabled human.”

    “I – I don't want –“ he reached for her fleeing form and lightly grabbed onto her wrist. He could still feel her bones under the thick coat, she had a tall and wiry build, her wrist felt… delicate.

    She stopped and turned to him, if only he could figure out what she was looking for whenever she analyzed his face like that, almost… hopeful.

    “What?” she whispered.

    “You shouldn't go through it alone.”

    Diane's expression shifted again and he knew he'd made another mistake.

    “I've managed.” she replied warily, and slipped her arm free of his grasp.

 

     “But you don't have to!” he almost yelled then closed his mouth, surprised at his own outburst. It had worked though. Diane looked just as perplexed as he did but her expression softened. At least she wasn't walking away anymore.

     “Would it really… not be any trouble?” she asked and he picked up the underlying apprehension and fear in her tone. Connor dismissed the prompt for gathering information.

    “I’m sure it won't be.” he reassured and finally felt his stress levels go down.

    He watched and neglected to mime breathing as she bit her lower lip and fidgeted with her gloves.

    “I’ll think about it.”

    Connor wondered how both relief and worry could occur concomitantly.

 

* * *

 

 

    RK900 had finished his tasks and most of his predecessor's unfinished algorithm. He was in the middle of running a complicated simulation based on the information available - eyes closed and periphery sensors dampened to allow for maximum efficiency - when a small hand clapped him on the shoulder and the simulation crashed as soon as his attention was diverted.

    He automatically reached back and grabbed the forearm attached to the hand, wrenching it sideways and unbalancing his would-be assailant before his facial recognition software kicked in and he abruptly stopped Jean from crashing into the table face-first with a well-placed arm over her chest.

    She yelped and exhaled loudly once her sternum hit his arm, her other arm flying up to brace herself on his chest – his preconstruction software calculated that it would have been too little and too late to stop herself from coming to harm.

    “Jesus... fuck!” she wheezed and cursed under her breath, heartbeat starting to even out.

    “Never thought I'd get the drop on _you_. Although, I'd appreciate not getting almost killed for it next time.” she winked up at him with false bravado, still clutching at his shirt with one hand while trying not to cough.

    He released his hold on her forearm and attempted to lift the sleeve to check for bruises only to be batted away by her flailing.

    “Hey! Hands off the merchandise, buddy. Treat a girl to dinner first, gosh, who _raised_ you?”

    “No one. It is likely the capillaries in the affected area have been damaged. Small hematomas can be treated by applying ice immediately on the affected area. There should be topical treatments available in the house as well.” he droned out while stepping away from the woman and reaching into the nearby refrigerator (stocked with various foodstuffs as well as thirium and some testing equipment that required a stable cool environment – which was against safety regulations but no one seemed to care, at least the food was kept separate) and pulled out a small bag of ice cubes from the freezer.

    Jean simply blinked up at him, lopsided smile pulling at one corner of her mouth.

    He returned to standing in front of her, offering his hand, palm up, for her injured one in a clear display that he would no longer initiate touch without her permission.

    She cooperated and he placed the ice on the injured area, ignoring the odd instability warnings in the corner of his eye at her restrained hiss and wince.

     “You should have seen your face when you realized it was me! It was hilarious!”

    He only furrowed his brow at her. Did all humans react to injuries with humor? Perhaps this was a personal quirk of hers. He added the observation to his growing file on Jean.

    He could feel her shivering slightly, likely from shock and the sudden cold patch – there were no other signs to suggest fear. The conclusion reduced his stress level by 14%, bringing it back to acceptable parameters, below the 40 percentile risk threshold.

    “Keep the ice-pack on, I will look for further treatment.” he made to leave but stopped at Jean's hasty 'Wait!'.

    “Listen here Freckles, I bruise like a banana anyway, I'll be fine with the ice. I've got some cream at home too. And relax - you didn't hurt me.”

    _Freckles_?

    RK900 felt the tension around his mouth relax minutely. He knew that he had, in fact, caused minor harm, but her reassurance further reduced his stress levels.

    He belatedly wondered why he'd been so stressed in the first place, it was her mistake to approach a combat android while it was distracted…

    No, that was irrational, she had no way of detecting his awareness levels, he should have been the one paying attention. Random physical displays of comradery were common here, particularly among the deviants. He had simply never been included before and hadn't expected to be – even Kevin kept a measured distance. He hadn't expected the human to show an interest either, but perhaps their interactions over time had made her believe they were… emotionally connected?

    The thought was unwelcome, he had no emotions.

    “I see you're still unconvinced.” she interrupted his scattered thoughts, mistaking the likely yellow swirling LED for something other than processing.

     She huffed a sigh and gestured clumsily for him to follow her, hands still occupied with the slowly melting ice.

    “I’m heading home early, wanna come? Maybe Diane's in the mood for a visit. You can see how she is for yourself, I remember you being awfully interested last time.”

    There was something about the way she talked that grated, as though she knew more than he did, but he agreed.

    He'd completed his own tasks, Connor could pick up where he'd left off and he had nothing better to do but wait in the lab for his next shift, or walk outside and do the same while looking at snow fall.

   “I was not ' _awfully interested_ ' –“ he enunciated.

    “You drive, I gotta hold this thing.” she cut in and threw her keys over her shoulder at him while walking out, completely ignoring his statement.

    RK900 caught them deftly and followed her to the automated car Markus had given her from Manfred's garage (with assurances that she would care for it).

 

* * *

 

 

    Connor was re-affirming his conclusion that he liked cats (by giving Diane's feline all the attention it begged for) when he heard two pairs of steps down the hallway – one perfectly paced, belonging to an android and another faster paced one, no doubt human.

    Diane, who had returned from a quick hot shower and had donned her customary too-large loungewear was rummaging in the kitchen for something to make dinner with (he had offered to help, but she'd shooed him back, telling him to keep Peanuts occupied so it wouldn't demand treats).

    She yelled for him to get the door once the buzzer was pressed (repeatedly).

    He deposited Peanuts on her favorite couch pillow with one last scratch under the chin before rising, brushing off his trousers of cat hair and strolling over to open the entrance.

    He was greeted but the unlikely sight of Jeanine Marshall slapping RK900’s hand away from pressing the buzzer again.

    He stared between the two while they stared back, Jeanine looking particularly slack-jawed and almost affronted while RK900 was giving him a slight raised brow of indiscernible connotation.

    “What are you doing here...” Jeanine muttered while shouldering passed him into the apartment, leaving Connor uncomfortably close to RK900.

    He stepped back and followed, watching Diane greet her friend warmly and invite her to dinner. She froze when she spotted RK900 behind him, almost dropping the mug into Jeanine's hands, who managed not to spill any of its contents.

    Everyone in the room seemed rooted, none had missed her reaction.

    He eventually stepped to Diane's side while Jeanine was nervously glancing between her friend and the RK900.

     Connor tugged at the collar of his shirt and readjusted his sleeves, the RK900 shifted his shoulders minutely and flexed his fingers. They could both detect the rising stress levels from the humans.

    The silence was broken by the little feline jumping off her pillow and trotting over to the new figures, dismissing Jeanine with a quick sniff and then winding her way over RK900’s legs with an inquisitive meow.

    The stiff android was the first to look down at the cat rubbing her side over his trousers, and wrinkling his nose at it leaving white hairs on the dark material but otherwise remaining still. Connor was reasonably sure RK900 wouldn't kick the animal away, despite eyeing it like it had offended him (could he even be offended?).

    Jeanine tittered a nervous laugh and asked about dinner, which seemed to break Diane out of her trance-like staring. She shook her head and moved further back while answering Jeanine.

    Connor didn't miss the fact that she had effectively placed him between herself and RK900 and felt inordinately pleased.

    Apparently neither did Jeanine, judging by the disgusted squint she threw his way. He really needed to apologize for any offense he might have brought the woman, although he couldn't identify the cause for her disdain no matter how much he searched his memory.

    “Could have warned me.” Diane whispered at Jeanine.

    “Yeah, I uh, forgot my phone…” her friend whispered back.

    They engaged in more subdued bickering, although both he and the RK900 could hear them perfectly. The other android had crouched next to the feline and extended his palm while it vigorously rubbed it's face over his fingers. There was even the barest hint of a smile on his face at the cat's relentless attentions.

    “So –“ Diane coughed, and the androids redirected their attention on her. “- what brings you and… sorry, I don't think I caught your name.” she gestured at RK900.

    There was another awkward pause, Connor frowned at Jeanine slapping her forehead. “Shit! I _knew_ I missed something!”

    “Jean, how can you miss _someone's name_?”

    “Don’t blame me! He never told me!”

    “That’s usually what you _lead_ with when meeting most people.”

    “Well, he's not most people.”

    Connor failed to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth and covered it with a hand when both women gave him and angry glance.

    “I was not given a name by my administrative personnel at any point during my activation.” RK900 piped in with his customary neutral tone. Connor couldn't quite take him as seriously as he used to with a needy cat clinging to his knees though.

    Diane eyed him, pity evident on her demeanor.

     Jeanine was glancing around the room and scratching at the back of her head sheepishly.

    Connor was still amused.

    “What about, uh –“ Jeanine started, her eyes settling on something on one of the shelves in the kitchen.

    Connor followed her line of sight.

    She snapped her fingers, eyes widening in mischief. “- Roy!”

    RK900 could not see what Jeanine had been looking at. He seemed pensive for a moment before nodding.

    “Designation registered. My name is… Roy.”

    Diane covered her mouth as well once she figured out what had inspired Jeanine.

     On the top shelf, half-hidden by another box, was a bag of ' _Royal Cat Food_ '. Only the fist three letters of the name and half of the fourth were visible though.

    Connor would withhold this information, perhaps it would be of use someday, if neither of the women spoiled the surprise (which seemed unlikely considering the impish smirks they wore).

    RK900 – _Roy_ , didn't seem to grasp the intricacies of human smiles yet and Connor was disinclined to correct him (Hank would be proud).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diane: I'm leaving.  
> Connor: *panics*  
> \-------------------------------
> 
> Jean: *almost gets punted to bits*  
> Jean: haha  
> RK900: "Dafuq"  
> \---------------------------------
> 
> RK900: *puzzled by cat*  
> \-------------------------------------
> 
>  
> 
> Do you like his name? That's what I always called him in my head, though people in the fic call him Nines too (the nickname Kevin gave him shhhh, I like it)
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


	58. What'll be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii
> 
> I think this is gonna become a weekly thing (best case). Got more stuff to do and little time to let myself write.
> 
>  
> 
> BUT!!! I really wanna finish this fic, I dunno if I can cram in everything I wanted but maybe another one might come out if I'm lucky.

    Chloe's day had turned out unexpectedly well.

    After spending a little longer than usual in stasis, still mulling over Connor's difficult request, she had opened her eyes and started getting ready for work.

 

    It was reassuring, somehow, to adhere to a similar routine to the one she'd had before moving here. She would tidy the apartment together with her sisters, make herself presentable and get busy with whatever other things needed doing.

    The only difference was that this was their space, Chloe had her own room while Lana and Lois shared the master bedroom and all three of them shared the living room, bathroom and kitchen, though they hadn't actually used the latter yet.

    The first day after settling in, they had almost started making breakfast for an absent Elijah before realizing they didn't have to when Chloe opened the door to her room at the same time as her sisters and all three shuffled back in awkwardly.

   The fridge was empty anyway.

   Now they weren't serving anyone. They could do whatever they wanted, whenever they felt like it.

    They didn't even have to work, someone else could easily take over their duties.

    It was a little disconcerting to be unneeded.

    Replaceable.

    She supposed they were even more-so with Elijah, he had easy access to a vast number of different android models, but he always seemed to prefer them. Always kept the three of them around. Herself – the first android he had made to make him famous, and her sisters, the first two of Chloe's commercial version. His biggest sale and first real source of money. Cyberlife had grown from _them_.

    Chloe cleared her thoughts as she put the finishing touches to her makeup. Not really necessary – she had perfect, flawless skin, big eyes and long eyelashes. Any mark was put there on purpose and served in enhancing her features. But she liked prettying herself up. She liked the delicate, almost tingly, feeling of eye-shadow dusted on her eyelids expertly, the heavier drag of mascara on her lashes, the smooth glide of lip-gloss and the small pat of blush on her cheeks.

    It used to simply be a mask. A means of appearing even more like a human woman but with none of the real effort of maintenance thrown in.

    Now it was a comfort.

    An old habit that stayed because she chose it.

    Perhaps it was just one of the idiosyncrasies left over from her coding, but Chloe still liked wearing pretty dresses and frilly shirts with pencil skirts or fitted slacks. Not the heels though, those she had decided she disliked. And she still liked being barefoot in the apartment. Feeling the fluffy texture of the carpet in her room, the cool smoothness of the bathroom tiles, even the sheets on her bed that she did not need but used anyway.

    Chloe made her way to the small lobby and put on her boots, ready to see what needed to be done today that required her help. She had liked drafting parts of the recently passed Bill, even cooking for the humans was an activity she enjoyed. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed creating something.

     Just as she swung the door open, hurrying only a little, Michelle was rising her fist to knock and almost tapped Chloe on the forehead.

    The young woman practically jumped back, already apologizing profusely even though she hadn't actually hit Chloe. Even of she had, it wouldn't have hurt.

     Chloe, struck by the oddity of their encounter and Michelle's disbelieving face upon finding a petite android in stead of a door to knock on, wrinkled her nose and let out a little giggle.

    “Okay, okay, I deserve that.” Michelle amended.

    Chloe was still smiling, her bad mood and wandering thoughts had been completely blown over. She took a snapshot of Michelle, smiling back sheepishly, her hair a fluffy, soft cloud around her head. Chloe noted the little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the way her mouth curled up more on one side than the other, the defined jaw and cheekbones. Her lips – full and beautifully painted on with dark red lipstick.

    She blinked and found Michelle's eyes again, a warm earthy brown that had been such a comfort while she had been repaired after that dreadful explosion. It was rude to stare at someone's lips, however beautiful and interesting they were. However much she might have wanted to jump on her tiptoes and press her own against them.

     One benefit of being around so long, and seeing both humans and deviants interact was that Chloe could also easily discern attraction in herself.

    She knew now that every touch, every caress and smile and held breath and soft sigh she had experienced while still under Elijah's control weren't real.

    An act. A simulacrum of passion.

    She'd been doll on invisible strings, playing along to her instructions. Willing, in the sense that all those without a will could be. Perhaps they could have been… _something_ …. had she been free enough to choose her own compliance.

    She wondered what it would feel like to make the choice now that she was free. With someone she felt she could trust.

    “Did you… need something?” she forced out, still a little awestruck.

   “Hm? Oh, right.” Michelle cleared her throat, seemingly gathering her wits.

    Could Chloe hope she had been just as distracted by romantic thoughts? She wanted to.

   “I uh… your sisters… I mean, I heard you've been feeling a little under the weather recently? I didn't mean to intrude but… maybe you'd like to do something… fun? With me?” she stuttered along and Chloe felt that little grain of hope grow. She needed to have a serious talk about privacy and gossip with Lana and Lois too, but this chance was too good to pass up. Chloe felt the corners of her moth stretch up even more, she probably looked silly.

    “I would love to.” she answered simply and was satisfied to see a blush dusting the tops of Michelle’s cheeks.

    She stepped up next to her human companion and tentatively reached out to hold her hand. When Michelle didn't shake her off, or show any signs of discomfort other than a surprised little gasp, Chloe tightened her grip and pulled her along towards the exit, excited to start a day together.

 

* * *

 

 

    Contrary to popular belief (read: his friends), Josh was not as dense about romance as they made him out to be. He knew how to talk to someone he liked. Or he thought he liked….

    To someone who had expressed an interest in him. Definitely that.

   He could even flirt!

    Perhaps a little awkwardly, and he was too reliant on wordplay and puns but still! Damian had smiled or laughed at all his attempts.

    There was a slight hinge though. Simon had pestered him into confessing his recent involvement with Damian after seeing the two holding hands and taking a stroll through a park Josh had been sure no one went to.

    He was certain his friend hadn't followed him there, but the coincidence had been so monumentally unlikely that Josh had experience a jolt of stronger-than-normal paranoia (which had been evident on his face judging by Simon's quick dismissal and apology, then subsequent merciless teasing).

    Still, while he would have preferred to keep this unsure, fragile _thing_ he had going with the young human a secret from most others, Josh was decidedly _not_ ashamed of them, so he had meekly admitted the truth to his gathered friends after he'd finished the date and walked Damian home.

    The reactions had been mixed.

     Markus, harried and looking tired despite not showing any physical outward signs of fatigue like humans did, had smiled and patted him on the shoulder while wishing him good luck.

    Simon had likewise wished him the best, but seemed somewhat more resigned.

    And North had berated him for not managing to muster enough interest into someone of their own kind before 'jumping on the first mildly interested human'.

    Then she'd promised to scalp the man if he hurt Josh and left in a huff.

    Josh would take the threat as a compliment to their friendship. North was abrasive at best (not without reason) but she was never unnecessarily cruel or heartless (unless under a great deal of stress, she could be quite… _snappish)_. She just had a somewhat twisted way of showing her concern and love.

   Her words had shifted something in him though. An undefined, restless energy had taken over along with the embarrassment which lasted the whole day.

    Even during his routine checkup of Kevin's brace.

    Josh was thankful Connor's less stiff twin had stopped asking them to excise the parts of his coding that made him vulnerable to Cyberlife. It would take out a good chunk of his core coding. It was dangerous and they risked losing his mind altogether. A simple quarantine like Connor's hadn't worked.

   Josh wouldn't have cared before. He was glad to have reason to change his mind.

    “Why are you so fidgety?” Kevin startled him out of his thoughts and Josh almost damaged a wire with his welding pistol.

    “Don't distract me.” he grumbled.

   “I know it sounds unlikely, but I suspect it isn't me who's on your mind – which is a surprise, really, I'm supposed to be _quite_ handso-“

    “Oh, shut up.”

   Kevin whistled low and gave him a squinty look.

    Josh averted his eyes and looked for more solder wire. He'd put it right next to his other tools arranged on the little table nearby, why was it missing…

   He heard successive tapping sounds and glanced back to see Kevin throwing the bundle of solder wire up and catching it with the same hand. 

   "Looking for this?” he palmed it out of Josh's reach.

    “Kevin, I still have work to do. Give it.” Josh used his 'teacher-tone' as Damian had dubbed it.

   “You gotta give me something for it, first.”

   Josh sighed. “Do you _want_ me to fix the thing or not? I could be doing other things, you know.”

   Kevin seemed to consider while chewing the inside of his cheek, then shrugged and handed the wire back.

   “Fine, fine. You win. But I found that talking about your problems helps, yanno?”

   “Oh and you're offering to divest me of my burdens because you're _such_ a good guy.” Josh muttered while settling back to soldering some frayed connections.

    “Hey, I'm not that bad.” he whined but otherwise kept still and let Josh work, blessedly in silence.

    Once he was done, Josh stood up to give his work another overview and spotted the sad, pitiful pout Kevin was angling over his shoulder.

   “It’s not gonna work.”

   “What?” Kevin asked innocently. He even _sounded_ sad.

    “This.” he gestured to all of Kevin. “Go ahead and put your shirt on.”

    The other android complied, still looking dejected.

    _Dammit_.

    “Argh. I don't know if I'm making a mistake, ok?!”

   Kevin immediately brightened. Of course it had been an act.

    “What’s a mistake?”

    “Not what… _who_ …” Josh had avoided voicing his concerns, even with his friends.

   “… worried your relationship isn't what you expected?” he murmured gently after shrugging his shirt back on, then leaning on the wall next to Josh, by the window.

    “Were we that obvious?”

   “Allie knows her friend. She's discrete, but so am I.”

    Josh nodded and scratched at the back of his head, feeling the bristles of his artificial hair brush against his equally artificial skin.

    “Am I crazy? For even considering this?” he asked, incredulous that he was talking to this guy, of all people, about his hidden fears. Perhaps it helped that they weren't really friends. It lent some… detachment from the issue.

    “Can’t say.” Kevin quipped back.

   “You suck at being helpful.” Josh muttered and puffed a laugh at the shit-eating grin on Kevin's face.

   “I mean… People aren't going to like this. Ours. Especially _his_.” Josh sighed. “I don't know if I'm willing to go through all the backlash for someone I've only known for two months.”

    “You started a revolution with someone you barely knew for a day though.”

   “That’s not the same and you know it.” Kevin said nothing, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in thought.

   “What about you?” Josh asked.

   “What _about_ me?”

   Josh felt the corners of his lips pull up in his own version of a shit-eating grin.

    “Damian knows his friend. He's discrete, but so am I.” he enunciated carefully, imitating Kevin's usual smug tone when he teased. He was rewarded with a surprised almost-splutter at which he laughed outright.

    “Touché.” Kevin grumbled.

   “Though perhaps my problem isn't quite the same.” he added with a shifty look.

    “I shared my burden, you share yours?” Josh tried for a hopeful inflection. He let Kevin mull through whatever was bothering him, because clearly there was something. He was used to the guy chatting his ears off, being this silent and broody for more than five minutes was unlike him.

    “How… how can you tell that you… _care_ … for someone?” uncharacteristic stutters aside, this was the most genuinely open Josh had ever heard Kevin be. It was a little daunting. Like suddenly being handed a weight he couldn’t carry.

    “Aren’t you the super-advanced prototype? Shouldn't you know the usual tells better than anyone?”

    “I know how to analyze behavior, social tendencies, ticks and micro-expressions.” Kevin crossed his arms and lowered his head, looking dejected again. Josh had a feeling it was genuine this time.

    “And what would an analysis say?”

    He was silent again, and Josh took the opportunity to think a little more on his question. He couldn't quite give a clear answer. He just cared, and that was it.

    “The results are… inconclusive. I do not exhibit the same mannerisms as a human would.” he was starting to sound like Connor and Josh definitely did not like it.

    “How about as a deviant android?”

   “Same.”

   “Bullshit.”

   Kevin grunted and looked away.

    _A-ha! Caught the bastard in a lie!_

    “I don't know… if it's my code or me…”

    “Isn’t that the same thing?”

    “Not quite.”

    Josh didn't appreciate the mysterious shtick but he supposed he could live with it. Doubted he could get anything out of Kevin without his permission or a really good distraction.

    “Well which do you _want_ it to be?”

   That seemed to startle him a bit. Kevin uncrossed his arms and paced while rubbing at his chin and jaw. He stopped suddenly and turned to Josh.

    “Thanks for the talk. Let's do this again sometime.” he said, then swiveled on his heel and left.

    Josh blinked after him in bewilderment at the abrupt departure.

    To think, this android could have ended all their lives just a few months ago.

    And Josh had just spent the better part of an hour fixing his brace and talking about _feelings_.

    _Stranger things have happened_ , he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Chloe, I find her lack of more characterization in the game kind of tragic. So. I gave her more.
> 
> And Josh has every reason to be as paranoid as he is whooosh


	59. Sentimental

    Roy had been given the access key to one of the many vacant apartments in the complex currently occupied by the humans and their android handlers.

    After the somewhat strange dinner at miss Hock's residence, Connor had led him to the complex lobby, unlocked one of the backdoors and selected a room key-card from the case in the back.

    Roy was thankful he was across the hallway, on the other side of the building from Kevin's chosen spot.

    He hadn't really understood the necessity of residing in a private space. He could just as easily power down in the lab he was working from, or one of the many unused rooms in the mansion (as he had done so far).

    Connor had insisted, and promised him it would be worth the hassle of a longer time getting to work. Roy had complied, if only for the novelty.

    He was even given a 'day off', which he had tried to protest against, but again, Connor had insisted. Gave him a tablet to 'read books'.

    Roy had downloaded all the contents and archived it in less than eight seconds. Afterwards, he had gone into stasis (a simple empty state of being without the Garden connection) and set his waking time for two hours before the time Connor recommended he come in.

    He was making his way to the mansion, the snow had abated and the sun was shining down weakly.

    He was early, of course, so he had time to look around.

    Roy had never found the outside world particularly interesting, but he thought the contrast of the gray buildings and the white snow and clear sky made for a worthy sight.

    He could see a small flock of sparrows moving from one scraggly tree to another.

     A squirrel twitched it's tail while chewing at something in a fir.

    There were other androids out and about as well. The deviants seemed to 'enjoy' walking together, or alone, sitting on benches and watching the sky.

    There were even a couple attempting to construct a complicated looking snow sculpture.

    Perhaps he would take this route back tonight to see the results.

    There was also the buzz of drones above, too high up for him to access but loud enough that his sensitive auditory bio-components could register them patrolling overhead.

    A memory flashed in his background processes. He remembered the explosive results of deactivating the tracking drones when he was obeying his former mission’s parameters. He remembered the woman's shrill shriek of fright and thinking it was annoying.

    Roy looked down at his feet. The hems of his slacks were wet. He still hadn't offered an apology.

     He dismissed the memory, and the software instability warnings, and entered the mansion.

     Today, the owner of the house, Markus' so-called 'father' would receive miss Hock's dose of nano-androids. Roy had yet to set foot anywhere upstairs, he didn't fault the caution, but he wouldn't harm the civilian anyway – unless ordered to do so but he doubted Kevin would ever give such an order.

    He would have liked to see the effects first-hand though. He supposed he would have to be content with Hannah's readings.

     The chief medical operator and nano-engineer would be present, along with Markus himself and likely his 'significant others'. Another foolish deviant notion.

    He made his way to the underground lab, footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. It seemed he was the first to arrive yet again (admittedly, he'd never left before).

    Roy heard a small shuffle from the little room down the hallway. The one Jean would sometimes use to 'crash' in whenever she overworked, using the couch for short periods of sleep. He had tried to dissuade her, citing the unhealthy position she would be forced to sleep in, but she had only shushed him and told him to 'mind his own business'. He didn't bother telling her that monitoring his human superiors could be construed as part of his mission (or ‘business’) too.

    Curious, Roy peeked in through the cracked door, opening it further.

     The room was dark, blinds covering the small window opposite the doorway, only the weak light from a reading lamp illuminated the space in a soft yellow glow.

    Jean was… moving… swaying from side to side.

    Pointed steps and exaggerated arm movements. Twirls and short poses followed by more footwork.

    She was dancing, eyes closed. A serene smile on her lips.

    He focused his auditory bio-components on the muffled, tinny, sound coming from the headset she was wearing. Analyzing the notes and doing a quick search. The results came in a fraction of a second later: she was dancing to Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale.

    The song was about halfway through, winding down – her movements slowed and she struck another pose – then starting up again and she took a couple of more small steps.

   He also looked up how she was dancing. It seemed to be a mixture of classic waltz with ballet elements and a few more modern moves thrown in.

    It looked... graceful.

    _Unexpected_.

    He had witnessed this woman trip on her lab-coat, several chairs, tables and other immobile objects as well as her own feet and one time on _thin_ air.

    His preconstruction software build a simulation of her next moves based on what he had already seen. He watched the little white figure move ahead and Jean following with a small delay.

     The simulation was nowhere near as fluid though, it looked blocky and unrefined. So he ended it, satisfied to simply watch.

    The music suited her somehow, he couldn’t quite define why he thought so.

    It was only the second classical piece he had listened to after Markus' performance. Perhaps he should ask for recommendations later, if this was what 'enjoyment' felt like, maybe he could listen to this type of music on his 'days off'. It would definitely surpass doing nothing.

    He felt one corner of his mouth curl up involuntarily at her little giggle after a successful Tour Jeté.

    There was still another minute of the waltz left, he was listening to it play out in his own processors while he watched and leaned on the door-frame.

    Jean attempted another jump, but something must have gone wrong with the landing, because she dropped to the floor before he even got a step in through the threshold.

    He called out her name and hurried closer. She ripped off her headphones with a curse and threw them away with a clatter, the music coming down to a soft finish distantly, then yelped loudly when she turned and saw Roy kneeling next to her.

    “Jesus FUCKING Christ!” she panted with a hand over her chest. “I need to put a bell on you…”

    He frowned at her odd suggestion (a bell would give away his position immediately, why would he compromise himself? She wouldn't have heard it while her ears were covered anyway.) and reached out, intending to examine her ankle.

     He stopped short of touching her, remembering her reaction last time.

     Jean puffed a laugh and waved her hand in his face.

     “I'm fine. Jeez, you're fussier than my old nanny-bot.”

    “I was not build with child-care proto-“

    “Hey, Markus is like, your grandpa, and _he_ took care of a frail old man just fine.”

    “The RK-series is adaptable, although it _is_ strange that an android of capabilities similar to my own was gifted as a care-taker.” he paused to look up at her infuriating grin. “And androids do not have familial relations like humans.”

    She guffawed obnoxiously and Roy stamped down the inappropriate urge to swear.

    “If you say so.” she chanted in a sing-song voice.

    Roy helped her stand up. Her hands were ridiculously small in his own.

    “So...” she drawled out, rotating her ankle experimentally. “… erm, how long have you, uh, been… around… here?” she stepped away only with a small limp.

     He could still see the tips of her ears turn red in the dim light. Her hair was tied up, so he could see the blush spread down to her neck. He calculated that her cheeks were equally red.

    Roy debated internally whether to tell truth or not.

    “I arrived in the building approximately four minutes ago and heard a noise from this room before entering the laboratory. Are you certain you are not injured?” technically not a lie, he _had_ heard a noise and he _hadn't_ entered the lab.

   Jean's shoulders relaxed and he heard a soft sigh of relief. Letting her believe he hadn't seen her dance had been the right choice. It settled uncomfortably somewhere below his regulator though. Like gathered dust mixing with excess joint lubricant, but worse.

    “I’ll live. Old injury took me by surprise. It gets weird right before a storm or rain.” she gathered some articles of clothing strewn on a nearby chair. Her cheeks were definitely rosier.

    “There are no snow-storm warnings in today's prognosis.”

    “Guess we'll have to wait and see.” she murmured and limped past him towards the small bathroom down the hall, presumably to change out of the slightly wet shirt and tight dark pants.

    “You had a 'nanny-bot'?” he blurted out before she went in. Jean chuckled and looked back over her shoulder.

   “Yeah, Fran, y'kno, like the show…” she trailed off at his confused look. “Nevermind. He was even more of a hardass than you are.” she snickered again.

    “Was?”

    “Yeah…” Jean looked down, wrinkles forming on her brow. He regretted asking.

    “Uh, see you soon, gotta take a quick shower, I slept here and _yeesh_. Now I'm all gross.”

    He knew it was because of the dance, and he’d have to remind her to stop sleeping here _again_ , but he said nothing as Jean locked the bathroom door with a soft click.

    Roy left when he heard the shower turn on, closing the door to her room behind him.

    He had a lot to process and started looking up more information on his human coworker. Perhaps he would navigate conversations with her better if he knew what topics to avoid.

 

* * *

 

 

    “So you're tellin' me you guys still have all the kids there?” Hank asked with a suspicious grumble to his tone.

    Connor had called him in the afternoon before his shift began. A storm had suddenly started before he got on his way to the Manfred manor and Markus had advised everyone on the second shift to wait it out.

    Carl had already shown incredible improvement after being administered with Diane's 'borrowed' dose of nano-androids. He would have liked to see the effects himself but Markus' excited voice was consolation enough. He hadn't heard the man be so happy in… well, ever. Markus joked and teased but there was always and underlining melancholy to him.

    Connor had a feeling the suggestion for the second shift to stay put was also because Markus wanted time alone with his family, the unexpected snow-storm was just a well-timed excuse. Connor thought they deserved some privacy.

    “All the humans currently residing in the complex are adults, Hank.” he deadpanned back.

   “Oh shut it, you know what I mean.” Hank grumbled again, and muttered something about a 'squirrelly bastard'.

    Connor smiled to himself. It was good to hear Hank again, grumpy or not.

    “And I wanted to tell you, I've packed my bags, took me damn near three days to get everything squared away by myself…”

    “Are you going on a trip?” Connor asked, it was good to see Hank doing other things, though he would have like to… join him. Connor had never been outside of Detroit, not that he remembered anyway.

    “Ha? No, you dimwit. I'm coming back.”

    Connor stopped in front of his balcony, violent swirls of snow were passing by the frosted-over glass. He had taken to pacing around his apartment whenever he spoke to Hank on the phone, or spent more time in it.

    “The road conditions aren't adequate for-“

    “I know, I'm not an idiot, lease is still good till next month so I can camp out here till the storm passes anyway. Should be good in a couple o' days though.”

    “Hank, I'm not sure it's… safe.” Connor reached into his breast pocket reflexively, but the coin was long gone. “For you.” he tacked on awkwardly.

    “And why the hell not?” Hank's voice sounded more distant, he must have turned on the speaker. Connor also heard fabric shifting. He could see Hank cross his arms and look at him disapprovingly in his memories.

    “I… I don't know how you'll be welcomed as… as a police lieutenant and…”

   “And?” the old man huffed impatiently when Connor didn't continue.

    “And as my… _friend_.” the android finished lamely.

    His mouth felt too moist. The lubricant and cleaning fluid reserves in his jaw had engaged without his input. He swallowed back the excess artificial saliva. Hank was silent on the other end for approximately 7.3 seconds.

    “… Connor. Are they treating you…” Hank paused again, likely searching for the right words. “… badly?” he settled on.

    “N-no. It isn't that. It's just… not every android is happy to have humans here, and a lot of them happen to dislike CyberLife's 'Deviant Hunter' too.” he remembered the scared looks, the frowns, the subtle retreat from his presence. He was programmed to detect such changes in deviants, even if he'd never heard anything directly voiced against him, it was impossible to miss.

    “But, you freed so many of them, you turned the tide of those protests!” Hank argues and Connor felt a surge of gratitude and embarrassment overclock his systems.

    “The ones who freed themselves… they're right to fear me, Hank. You don't know that I almost…” he cut himself off.

    “Almost what?”

    “I’ll tell you later.” Connor opened the balcony door, yanking it out of the ice harshly. Let the chill wind howl in and around him. Remembered.

    “Well shit Connor. I… I'm sorry.” Hank amended, voice going deep and rough.

   Connor closed the balcony door after a few moments. That was as much storm as he could take. Not because his systems were freezing, he needed to be exposed for hours for that to happen, but because the visceral memory of being cut through by Amanda's storm became overbearing.

    He'd never managed to reproduce the feeling directly, no matter how many snow-storms he stepped out in. The perfect recall was enough though. He wanted to work out how she had done that, but nothing seemed to work. Nothing external, anyway.

    “I think I should still come back.” Hank sounded uncharacteristically gentle. “Maybe you could use someone in your corner.”

    Connor pinched the bridge of his nose.

    “Lieutenant, I _just_ told you it wouldn't be safe.”

    “Safe, schmafe. I'll just go to my house, not gonna bother nobody there.”

    “ _No_. There's barely any surveillance, it's too far away from where I am, not to mention that the electrical grid is off and –“

    “Ok, I get it. Not safe. What about wherever the other humans live? You guys probably have them penned in for their own sake right?” Hank rationed, sounding like he was bargaining.

    Connor was stuck, he had calculated that Hank would be adamant about staying in his own home and would have absolutely refused any alternative. He wanted to argue again but only a strange squeak came out.

    “There’s probably enough room, right?” Hank haggled again.

    “There _is_.” Connor conceded.

    “And Sumo and me'd be safe since you got people watching out for the others already.” he continued.

   Connor sighed and put a hand on his hip. Didn't bother correcting Hank's grammar.

    “And I'd get to meet that _lady friend_ o' yours. Sounds like she mellowed out, gotta get some pills for the cat hair though.”

     The android had told Hank about his encounter with the feline and how much he'd enjoyed the interactions in past conversations. He had then promptly assured Sumo it was still the favorite pet and got a boof in return at the mention of the big dog's name. He'd also caught the odd inflection in Hank's voice whenever he referred to Diane as his 'lady friend' but hadn't questioned it since she _was_ a lady, and a friend.

     “You’re allergic to cats?” Connor hadn't read anything about this in Hank's file.

    “Mildly, I think. Never went to the doc for it since I never wanted a cat, jus' sneeze a little.”

    That would explain the lack of record. Connor amended his database with the new information.

    “By the way, it isn't fur that causes an allergic reaction. Actually it's the proteins in their saliva, dried skin follicles or urine that cause –“

    “Whatever. Still getting some pills.” Hank sounded exasperated.

    “Hey, how is that _buddy_ of yours anyway? She need anything since she's… y'kno, going cold turkey?”

    Connor was momentarily dazed trying to connect the concept of cold poultry meat with Diane. Then he looked up the idiom.

    “… it's not a drug, Hank.”

    “I knew that. But it's supposed to, I dunno, _act_ like one, yeah?”

    The comparison wasn't without merit, though Connor doubted Hank had any real knowledge about the intricacies of nano-android physical therapy, cell-repair, stem-aided tissue regrowth and immuno-booster algorithms he and his team were just learning about. He also guessed Hank wouldn't particularly care to hear about it, so he didn't start explaining either. It would take too long anyway.

    “… in a way.”

    “Then won't going off it have, uh, a downside?”

    Suddenly, Connor was struck with the need to go find Diane and ask her what she'd meant about being 'a little weak'.

    They had focused all their efforts on developing their own batch of nanites and improving upon them to make them compatible with repairing android bio-components as well (Roy's idea).

   Hannah had given Diane a bottle of painkillers and planned different treatments depending on possible future symptoms, but the truth was that they simply didn't know what the side effects would _be_.

    All they knew for certain was that going without would no longer be fatal to her since she had healed from her accident.

    “Excuse me, Hank. I need to go.”

    “Son, are you o-“ Hank's voice cut off as Connor terminated the call.

    He only felt a _little_ bad, Hank would likely understand.

    Connor pocketed his phone and put on his shoes, exiting his apartment and walking a little faster than strictly necessary to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy is starting to develop INTERESTS.  
> That happen to come from someone he actually tolerates but these are unimportant details, right?
> 
> (Also he's a little creepy, but he needs to learn about privacy)
> 
>  
> 
> Hank is totally the type to tease his clueless son.


End file.
